


Playdate

by Glare, Icse, Kurenaino



Series: Empire of Flames [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha Qui-Gon Jinn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fucked Up, Incest, Knotting, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Omega Anakin Skywalker, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sith Obi-Wan, Sith Shenanigans, The Sith Triumvirate Writes, the authors regret nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 44,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glare/pseuds/Glare, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icse/pseuds/Icse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurenaino/pseuds/Kurenaino
Summary: When an unexpected malfunction in his hyperdrive leaves Lumis stranded in a time and place not his own, his quest to get home leads him to a few familiar faces and he finds that some grudges extend beyond even the boundaries of the universe





	1. Lumis' Best Day Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Entropy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319155) by [Glare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glare/pseuds/Glare). 
  * Inspired by [From Darkness, I Rise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128249) by [Kurenaino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurenaino/pseuds/Kurenaino). 



> Well, hello there! Welcome to the Crack Baby!
> 
> So Glare and I both have Sith Obi-Wans, and the more we talked about them, the more we realized that it's a crime against humanity that these boys don't find a way to meet. And then we figured it would be an even bigger crime if they DID meet, so we decided this had to be written.
> 
> If you haven't guessed, this is ABSOLUTELY a Crack!Fic, and it is in no ways to be taken seriously. At all. Really, this thing shouldn't even exist, but there's just not enough fucked up around these parts.
> 
> In case you don't know, Aestus of Glare's Entropy is a fucked up little puppy that rapes his way across Anakin's face until he submits completely, and Lumis of Kurenaino's Morning Star series is a mind controller that keeps sex slaves and broken Jedi as play things. Why, you may ask, are these two meeting? You know...for more of this depraved shit.

Darth Lumis knew Malastare when he saw it, even from the atmosphere through smoke and flames billowing from the nose of his starfighter. It wasn't  _his_  starfighter, of course, but one he had stolen from the hangar of the  _Prosperous_  during a particularly irritating fight against Republic forces over Saleucami. The  _intention_  had been to steal the ship and use it to cause havoc upon the rest of the besieging forces surrounding the planet, but poor timing on the part of a certain General Grievous had seen the ship take critical damage, and Lumis had to reluctantly abandon his plans. A dying ship was of no use to him, so he had quickly fled to the hangar and stole one of the Republic Eta-2 Actis starfighters and flew away from the exploding Star Destroyer as it begun to break apart in the atmosphere.

One look at the Separatist fleet made it clear that there would be no victory here today, and it hasty retreat to a nearby system would give them the time they needed to regroup and try again, so Lumis ordered the retreat, taking out as many of the enemy starfighters as he could to cover his forces' escape. Just as he was about to jump, the Republic  _finally_  caught wise to the rogue Eta-2 in their midst, and before Lumis knew it, he had an entire fleet of the starfighters after him, which wouldn't have been a problem if there wasn't  _obviously_  a Jedi pilot at the head of the force. Not  _Skywalker_ , perhaps, but a very good one, good enough to tag his wing and the nose of his fighter just as he made the jump.

Which had led him to this moment, his hands gripped tightly to the fighter's yoke and his teeth grit tightly together as he struggled to control the ship as it rocketed through the atmosphere of a planet he did  _not_  jump to. The Jedi's lucky shots must have thrown off the hyperdrive, or disrupted the navicomputer, or  _something_ , because this sort of error was frankly unacceptable. If he had just flown  _his_  ship like he had been initially intending to do, this wouldn't have happened. The  _Umbra_  was a marvel, a stealth nightmare for the Republic, and there were very few ships that could catch her when she got going. A little damage wouldn't have led to  _this_ , crashing on this  _miserable_  Republic world. He had already spent enough time on Malastare earlier in the war, had been quite badly wounded here due to circumstances far outside his control, and for it, had killed  _lots_  of the native Dugs, which had been supremely satisfying. But he wasn't ready to be back here. Just the  _stench_  of the place was unbearable.

As far as crash landings went, this one wasn't his finest. The Eta-2 tore across the tops of the wide, sprawling forests as he aimed for a settlement just at the edge, slowing the ship just enough to see it sink past the top of the tree line and slice the crowns off several of the local jungle vegetation before repeated impact tore the wings off the starfighter. The body of the ship crashed through the forest, luckily avoiding any head on collisions with trees large enough to stop it on its way to the ground, and soon enough, the Eta-2 was tumbling tail over nose to the ground, finally rolling to a stop upon the soft, loamy forest ground. With a snarl of irritation, Lumis extended his hand and tore open the cockpit canopy with the Force, the heavily damaged transparisteel cover flying off and finally shattering as it struck the trunk of a nearby tree. Igniting his saber, he swiftly cut the flight restraint trapping him inside the smoking, burning cockpit, and he jumped out, staggering slightly as his feet touched down upon solid ground.

Lumis could immediately feel that something was... _wrong_. Something unmistakably off about this place, about everything around him. He closed his eyes, reached out to touch the Force and felt it... _calm_. Still, completely undisturbed, the waters of it's flow slow and sluggish and warm, bright and soothing and  _peaceful_ , without the sharp, undercurrent of darkness that he had grown so used to. It had been  _years_  since the Force had felt like this, warm and comforting instead of harsh and cold, a gentle breeze instead of a violent storm. It hadn't felt like this since...

Since he had been a  _Jedi_. Since before Qui-Gon Jinn threw him away like he was  _nothing_.

This was not the Force of a galaxy at war, of a planet steeped in death and destruction, of a violent riptide that coursed through the Force and dragged it toward the darkness that it had been so craving, that it had been lacking for the past one thousand years and only just now had the strength to push past the Jedi's vile control and reach for balance once again. The Galaxy, the  _Force itself_ , saved by the Dark Side and the Sith that embodied it, freeing the miserable wretches of this world and all worlds of the Jedi's false peace, of the Republic's indifference, of the Senate's greed and corruption, life itself mired by the complacency of the light, only to be rid of that filth so they could thrive under the guidance of the Sith.

Gone.  _All of it_.

It was as if the Clone Wars hadn't even happened, like the Sith had not yet begun to leave their mark, to exert their pull.

Lumis thought he was going to be  _sick_.

He staggered through the forest toward what he felt was the settlement he saw as he crashed, holding on to the trunks of trees for support as his shaking legs adjusted to ground, as his body roiled and rejected the warmth of the Force's embrace around him. Reaching deep within himself, he touched at the chained beast of the Dark Side he kept tightly under his control, the open, bleeding wounds on his heart, new cuts opened over the years and held open by his own hatred and rage and resentments, and he surrendered to the rush of pain, the cold fury of the Dark Side as the snarling, vicious beast was released.

It was enough to snap freeze the Force around him, enough to feel the spears of ice lance through his body and fill him with the immediate rush of the bitterly painful cold, harsh and uncompromising and comforting in a way the gentle warmth of the Light could  _never_  be, not for him, not anymore. He gasped in satisfaction as he felt the darkness sluggishly fill his veins, could feel the burning behind his eyes that always blazed with the Dark Side's corruption, a sinister smirk on his face as he watched the smooth bark of the tree his hand rested upon begin to whither and pale as the very life was sucked out of it, the living Force forcefully ripped from every cell. Lumis could already feel the drunk, drugged haze of stolen life rushing through his body like a narcotic, not nearly so strong as it was when taken from a sentient being, but enough to make him feel centered and balanced, sure-footed in the darkness once again.

Taking his hand from the dried, pale trunk of the now dead tree, Lumis ran a hand through his ruffled hair and sauntered through the woods toward the settlement, swaying slightly under the effects of the Force drain as his injuries from the crash were quickly healed, and ready to consider his current predicament. There  _was_  no war, there couldn't be, not with the Force in the state it was, not with the forest around him vibrant and in tact as he  _knew_  it wasn't the last time he had been on war-torn Malastare. It was... _impossible_ , and yet the truth of his surroundings could not be denied. Something had happened, something he had yet to understand, which was a rare thing for careful, cautious Lumis.

His Master had trained him better than to enter a situation without understanding what he was getting himself into. It was that kind of reckless foolishness that had seen to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Sith Lords before him, and Lumis would not fall into those same traps. The Sith had changed since then, no longer the butches of the past, but now a line of careful planners and strategists that sat behind the scenes and controlled  _everything_  from a place of quiet, absolute power, unchallenged because they were unseen. His Master had taught him well how to be subversive and clever, and as the Code of the Sith demanded, he would  _adapt_. Even to the madness he found himself surrounded by, which meant he needed to  _understand_ , an open mind suddenly paramount to comprehending this realm where impossibility was the reality.

 _No Clone Wars_. It was honestly sickening.

Understanding in this case meant finding someone he could pull information out of, and in nearly every case, the most knowledgeable beings on galactic matters were Jedi, their filthy hands deep in nearly every significant conflict giving them at least a basic, if warped, understanding of the state of things. Which meant he needed to draw the Jedi here, and as Lumis drew toward the edge of the forest, the sounds of the wildlife drowned out by the clamor of the busy settlement, he knew that the best way to draw the Jedi out was, and had  _always_  been, the uncompromising slaughter of the innocent.

* * *

It took the Jedi under an hour to arrive, but in that short time, Lumis had caused a  _ridiculous_  amount of damage, not just in lives taken by the fatal swing of a crimson lightsaber, but in property damage. Valuable supply lines filled with the toxic and highly versatile Malastarian fuel mined from the planet's core had been cut, not just spilling thousands of gallons of the glowing green liquid to be wasted upon the ground, but also flooding the subterranean mining and refining plants, leading to the deaths of thousands of workers down below. In the panic to get away from the toxic refuse beginning to seep through the streets of the settlement, hundreds of the native Dug rushed for the safety of their elevated town square, only to have Lumis waiting there, lightsaber in hand and ready to slay all he could.

It was a brutal, inelegant way to go about a slaughter, but he needed the red blade of the Sith to be seen to draw the Jedi in, could leave no doubt, no mystery as to what had slain the innocent. At the end of the day, Lumis would have rather enslaved these people, used the Force to bring the writhing mass to heel, replacing their will with his own in order to force them to follow his every command. If death  _was_  necessary, he leaned on the Force in this matter as well, using the Dark Side to rip through them and set their blood to boiling, their every nerve on agonizing fire until pain drained the life from them and delivered them into the claws of death. The lightsaber was reserved for his  _actual_  opponents, not these insignificants who existed solely to serve him as need be, to die on his command if he willed it so, all for the elevation of the Sith.

It wasn't that he  _couldn't_  fight. He could, and Lumis did it well, but he found senseless slaughter with a blade... _inelegant_. These people didn't deserve to meet his blade, like his Jedi opponents did, those wonderful few who could resist the crushing grip of the Dark Side he exerted. And even then, he would rather see the Jedi enslaved and servicing him in any way he saw fit instead of impaled upon his blade, though it didn't always happen that way. Breaking a Jedi was no easy feat, a thing made even more difficult in the heat of combat, and more often than not, he was forced to slay them. If he could get them alone,  _isolated_ , could find a way to slip past their mental defenses and into their minds, he could break them to him even  _during_  a fight, but those days were becoming few and far between.

The Jedi High Council, after  _years_  of war, was finally getting sick of him killing their Padawans, breaking their Knights, and seeing their Masters disappear into the stronghold of Mustafar Palace to become the willing slaves of Darth Lumis. These days, the only Jedi he consistently saw was Anakin Skywalker, the  _wretch_  that had replaced him at Qui-Gon Jinn's side, a useless,  _foolish_  boy trained  _specifically_  by Yoda himself to resist the Sith Lord's mental domination. Anakin Skywalker, Bastion of the Light, the counterpoint to the darkness that Lumis was seeped in, needed to die. He needed to die  _yesterday_ , months ago,  _years_  ago at the Battle of Geonosis when he had the chance, or even further back when Lumis first set eyes on him when his  _foolish_  Master at the time had brought him aboard the ship on Tatooine. He should have ignited his saber and killed the child before he had grown to be the man he was now, before he was an  _actual threat_.

But he didn't. He had been a good Padawan, had  _tried_  to be a good Padawan, despite the darkness he felt every time he looked at his Master, every time he thought of the bitter cold he felt when Qui-Gon tried to throw him away in order to train the too old Anakin, every time he looked at the old Master and  _knew_  that Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn't the student he had wanted, but the student he was stuck with. And Obi-Wan had reached for darkness anyway, had grabbed hold of the Dark Side in order to save Qui-Gon's life, and had started his journey down the path that lead to his fall from the Light and his new life as Darth Lumis, Lord of the Sith.

To  _now_ , this moment here, hiding up in the trees of the forest and watching the Jedi beneath him, their blades in hand as they searched for the man with the red lightsaber responsible for the settlement's mass devastation. Two humans, a male and a female, both Knights, from the look of it, and Lumis scoffed and rolled his eyes when the two split up, fanning out to cover more ground in their search, and though they looked up several times, they didn't once spot Lumis. How could they? The Force was his ally, and the Dark Side had always concealed him well. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the ebb and flow of the Force pulling at him, and he could feel the uncertainty of the Jedi Knights, their confusion, the fear that heavily laced they caution, though they concealed it well. But even through all of that, these Jedi were...unaware.  _Completely_  oblivious, as if they had  _no inkling_  as to what they were dealing with.

As if they didn't realize that all the signs pointed to their rogue criminal being  _Sith_.

A malicious grin slowly spread across Lumis' face and he couldn't stop a low, sinister chuckle rumble deep in his chest as he dropped down from his perch and silently landed on the ground below, crouched low as he stalked after the male Jedi. This was, by far and away, the easiest, softest prey he had in  _quite_  a long while. Where ever he was, in whatever time or place, he would learn soon enough, but for now, all that mattered was this  _gift_ , these toys that had been so beautifully presented to him. Jedi Knights, young and unsuspecting and  _completely_  unaware to the bitter,  _glorious_  truth that they were not, in fact, the hunters of a murderous fugitive, but the treasured hunted of a Dark Lord of the Sith.

Lumis kept his presence in the Force concealed, matching the Jedi before him step for step, though his stride was longer than the Jedi's, his gold eyes intense and focused on the cautious man before him as he slowly gained. Drawing up to his full height as he crept closer, Lumis tilted his head in observation of this Jedi, only barely a man, from the look of it, moving slowly but far too loudly for a hunter. Each step snapped twigs and crunched fallen leaves, and Lumis could hear his fast, shivering breathing and the pounding of his heart, the Dark Side passively dulling the Jedi's senses, a welcome change from the Jedi Knights that Lumis was used to fighting, all of them hyper-aware of the Sith, all of them accustomed to the distinctive feel of the darkness around them.

Lumis reached out his hand and laid it on the Jedi's shoulder, and before the suddenly tense, gasping man could turn around, the Sith Lord slammed his foot into the back of his leg, the Jedi slamming to his knees with a startled cry, and Lumis' hand wrapped into the thick black hair and he forced the Jedi's head back, excited, malevolent golden eyes meeting wide, fearful green. Without wasting another moment, devoid of any of the gentle care and the soothing seduction he usually employed, Lumis grasped at this Jedi with the Dark Side, his shadowy hands clasping around his mind, feeling at the walls that should have been iron and were little more than rust, and with all his command of the Force, he crushed the precious mind he held. The walls shattered, a thousand hopelessly broken shards crumbling into dust, exposing the soft mind beneath, and Lumis thrust his hands inside and tore it open, ravishing the deepest parts of this Jedi Knight.

It was easier than he had expected it to be, the violent breaking of the Jedi causing his body to fall limp in Lumis' grasp without uttering a single cry, his jaw slack and his eyes vacant, and the Sith Lord carefully lowered him to the ground, gently running his fingers through his hair and cooing softly to the broken Jedi as he raked the claws of the Dark Side through the pliant brain, the tendrils of darkness worming their way unrestrained through him and coiling possessively around his feeble consciousness. A thick line of drool lazily trailed out of the corner of his mouth as the Jedi began softly moaning, the satisfaction of the Sith Lord for his submission sending waves of pleasure through the broken man's body and hazy mind, and with no resistance left inside him, Lumis had free and easy access to everything within him.

It was  _exactly_  as he had thought. No Clone Wars, no Sith, tension in the Senate, yes, but it was negligible. There was a rogue Dark Sider, but that was the worst thing the Jedi had to face, and even then, sightings were few and far between, so rare that other things happening in the galaxy quickly took priority. It was...almost like the years preceding the Clone Wars. Hell, it was  _exactly_  like that. Where ever it was that Lumis ended up, it was  _very_  far from the chaos and wars of home, but if one thing was certain, where the Jedi were, the Sith would always be, and if his actions here attracted the notice of the Jedi, Lumis didn't think it would be long before this  _Rogue Dark Sider_  came for him. Be it Sidious or someone else, he needed to be ready, and for as many questions as the Jedi's mind had answered, two more replaced it, and he felt even less knowledgeable than he was before.

Lumis  _hated_  not understanding the situation.

"I wonder if you're too broken to obey me, pet..." Lumis drawled, stroking the man's cheek as he rose to his feet, though he never let go his grasp of the Jedi's mind. "Can you hear me, boy?" Lumis asked, watching as the Jedi's head lolled to the side, his unfocused, hazy eyes staring blankly up at him. "I spoke to you,  _Jedi_ , answer your Master."

"M-master..." the Jedi whimpered, his voice thick and slurred, his shaking, jerking hand reaching up for the Sith Lord and loosely grasping the hem of his robe, keening softly as he shuffled to his knees and desperately clung to the man that owned him. Lumis roughly grabbed the boy's chin and forced him to look up, and he grinned wickedly at the vacant, vapid expression, the very Force within him trembling in submission and an eagerness to serve.

"Oh,  _baby_ , I wish we had time for you to service me properly..." Lumis drawled, releasing the Jedi and stepping away, the man's head dropping to his chest as though he lacked the strength to hold it up. "Get up, Jedi. Let's go hunt that friend of yours."

The Jedi silently obeyed, slowly rising to his feet to stand beside the Sith Lord, and Lumis looked him over, carefully observing as he swayed upon his feet, his eyes sliding in and out of focus as the shreds of himself struggled and failed to fight against the tight grasp of the Dark Side, his mouth gaping as he tried to form words, though he could never manage anything more than a few broken, fragmented sentences and single, individual words that had to fight for coherence through his slurred speech. Quickly testing the Jedi's physical agility with a series of short, simple commands, Lumis found him more than acceptable, quickly obeying and falling back on the instincts a life of Jedi training granted him. His mind was destroyed, but his body was not, not the sort of slave he usually kept, Lumis preferred his enthralled to be a bit more versatile, but it was suitable for his purposes now.

They found her quickly, the woman spotting them only moments after Lumis saw her, and she swiftly strode toward them, her hand cautiously on her lightsaber, though she didn't remove it from her belt. Even with the distance between them, Lumis could feel she was stronger than her friend, aware and alert to the danger around them, though uncertain as to where it was coming. She stopped in her tracks, her shoulders tensing and her lightsaber swiftly drawn when Lumis reached out and scratched at her mental walls, testing her resolve, her strength, searching for cracks and flaws through which he could get through. There were several, placed there by fear and uncertainty, though caution and suspicion and elevated alertness made them smaller and harder to crack.

Lumis just...wasn't in the mood for this.

With a wave of his hand and a whispered order to the man beside him, Lumis leaned casually against a tree and watched as his Jedi's lightsaber ignited in a flash of emerald green as he sprinted toward his stunned comrade, the woman fumbling for her own saber and the green blade extending only moments before the other slashed down at her. She immediately slipped into a frantic defense as the other Jedi ferociously attacker her, her desperate cries for him to come to his senses falling on deaf ears, and Lumis watched the proceedings with an amused smirk on his lips, his every breath sinking him deeper into the Force as he slowly tightened his grasp around the Jedi woman's rapidly weakening walls, her attention too divided, her opponent too distressing for her to keep the Sith Lord out.

Lumis whistled softly as he slowly ambled toward the combatants when the woman shuddered as the Sith slipped through the widening holes in her defenses. He silently commanded the other Jedi to stop, the man swiftly dropping to his knees and bowing his head, awaiting his next order. With a strangled cry, the woman's lightsaber fell from her fingers as she grabbed her head, her eyes shut tight as she struggled to force the intruder out of her mind, but it was too late. Lumis was already in, his dark hands sunk deep inside her and demanding her submission to his will. He could feel her resistance being sapped away, each moment of her futile struggling leaving her weaker, her strength quickly replaced with compliance as she dropped to her knees with a groan, her arms falling limply at her side as her struggle quickly ceased.

By the time Lumis reached her side, his hand extended toward her forehead, her willpower was gone, her fierce struggle only making her stubborn mind brittle and break instead of bending like her more pliant male counterpart had. The Jedi instinctively leaned her cheek against the Sith Lord's palm, a soft moan in her throat as Lumis dragged his thumb over her lips and dragged what information he could from her mind, nothing more than confirmation of what he had already learned from the other Jedi. The Jedi, as typical of their ignorance, knew very little. He was going to have to wait for the Sith to arrive before he gained any sort of understanding. With a sigh, Lumis commanded the Jedi to stand guard, and he leapt up to one of the thick, sturdy branched of a nearby tree. He could wait. Lumis had  _always_  been patient.

* * *

Darth Aestus lay draped over the back of his omega, growling in soft satisfaction at each keening whimper from the man beneath him, each shaking, silent sob torn from Qui-Gon's broken Padawan, reveling in the feel of the tight sheath clenching needily around the knot well and truly stuck in his hole. He bit at the already red and tender flesh of Anakin's neck, the boy beneath him squirming and groaning with the pain of it, the last vestiges of his resistance to the dominating alpha. Some days, he struggled more than others, and a part of Aestus enjoyed the moments he had to break Skywalker once again. But a part of him was  _insulted_ , enraged that this omega would dare to fight against him when he had shown over and over again that he was  _not_  to be defied.

With the post-orgasmic haze settling over him, Aestus lazily pet and stroked at Anakin's hips as he nipped and bit his neck and shoulder and ear, growling in warning and his grip tightening every time the omega tried to move, wriggle away, or fight against his bonds. The omega submitted quickly, of course. He didn't have much of a choice, couldn't move enough to do anything about it, even if he wanted to, and with his arms tightly bound, his legs spread apart, and his ass raised invitingly in the air, Anakin was at the perpetual mercy of the Sith Lord and the needs of his own traitorous body, which seemed to respond to the alpha even though the madness of his heat had passed.

A sharp, ferocious snarl was torn out of Aestus' chest, his teeth bared as his grip on the omega tightened, his furious eyes focused on the chiming comlink on the table across the room. There was only one being that would  _ever_  contact Aestus, and it was the last person he wanted to talk to, especially now when he was knotted to the pliant omega. A brief flash of anger tore through him when he thought about the reprimand he would receive for his weakness, for this  _need_  to dominate, to breed, to stuff his knot inside an omega and make the weak creature irrevocably  _submit,_ and for a moment, Aestus had half the mind to ignore it. When the chiming continued, he snarled in fury, his hand extended, and the comlink shot to his grasp, his fingers closed so tightly around it, it threatened to break.

" _What is it_?!" Aestus snapped viciously, grimacing when only tense, simmering silence followed, and with a deep growl, he lowered his head, his bared teeth pressed against whimpering Anakin's skin. "Master..."

"Frequenting  _another_  of your omega whorehouses, Aestus?" Sidious hissed, his voice low and frightfully angry, and the young Sith nearly winced. He  _knew_  this was coming, but something about the way his Master spoke down to him made him feel  _weak_ , like he was nothing at all. "One day, you will be master of these  _ridiculous_  urges."

"I  _try_ , Master..." Aestus began, but was quickly silenced by a harsh,  _disgusted_  scoff.

"You do no such thing, Apprentice. You are little more than a slave to your base, primitive urges. And while I do respect your efforts to subjugate, as small-minded and  _petty_  as they may be,  _I_  do so because I wish it.  _You_  do it because your body demands it of you, and  _that_  makes all the difference."

"Right..." Aestus spat bitterly. "Like you would  _ever_  stick your cock inside  _anything_."

"And that is rather the point now,  _isn't it_?" Sidious hissed, and Aestus ground his teeth together, his fingers tightly wrapped in Anakin's hair and shoving the whimpering omega's face against the mattress. "You are ruled by that  _ridiculous_  thing between your legs. No greater ambition, simply following your nose from one omega to the next. It is pitiful, and furthermore, it is  _weakness_."

"...so I've been told, Master,"Aestus growled, a sharp snap of his hips pushing his engorged knot deeper inside the whimpering Anakin, and in that moment, he did feel as weak as Sidious had said. But only for a moment. The sight of Anakin's tight hole straining against the girth of his knot filled his chest with cocky satisfaction.  _Sidious_  would never know the feel of fucking a needy, dripping omega begging for a knot to feel complete. Sidious couldn't give that to them even if he wanted to. He wasn't  _alpha_  like Aestus was. The Sith Master was certainly more powerful, the only person Aestus could remember that could actually defeat him, but  _this_  was a sort of domination that Darth Sidious, calm and cool and always collected, would  _never_  know.

"I've a mission for you, Apprentice," Sidious said almost wearily. "On Malastare. Hundreds of people are dead, massacred in the streets, by a man reportedly wielding a red lightsaber." Aestus sucked in a sharp breath and held it, his teeth sinking into Anakin's shoulder and filling his mouth with the taste of blood as he quickly tried to process this new information. "Two Jedi went after him, and they haven't returned. The Jedi Council is mobilizing a team to investigate.  _You_ , Aestus, are to go to Malastare ahead of the Jedi, find this man, and bring him to me. If he is strong in the Dark Side, I wish to know about it. Bring him to me."

"Master, I-"

" _Now, Aestus_!" Sidious snarled, savage and cruel and in a tone that brokered no argument. "I don't care if you have to pull yourself out of that creature beneath you, I don't care if the entire thing  _tears off_  in your efforts to dislodge yourself, you will leave  _immediately_. If we are fortunate, perhaps that is  _exactly_  what will happen and your castration will spare me anymore of your ridiculous male posturing, and you will  _finally_  know true strength."

Before Aestus had a chance to respond, the com snapped off, and with a furious snarl, he made th throw the device against the wall and be done with it, but instead only dropped it on the bedside table, growling softly when he heard it chime once again, this time with the exact coordinates of the sighting of this man with the red saber. His Master knew. He  _always knew_  when he was at his weakest, when he submitted to his baser animal instincts, and Aestus wondered if Sidious hated it as much as he sometimes did. If he wasn't as powerful as he was, he was certain that Sidious would have tossed him away long ago, but he  _was_  strong, and he had overcome every challenge that his Master had laid before him. Maybe he wasn't the  _best_  apprentice, but Aestus had killed all others that could have risen to the occasion and left Sidious with no other choice. Aestus was, for now, the best thing that Darth Sidious had going for him.

Which is  _exactly_  why Aestus felt so uneasy, so on edge about this new rouge Dark Sider.

With a feral, possessive growl, Aestus drew the panting, whimpering omega closer to his and lazily bit at the bonding mark as he pressed himself deeper inside him, a soft, keening whine punched out of Anakin as he instinctively pushed back against him to take the knot deeper. He'd follow his Master's orders, of course. There was little choice when it came to such things, as humiliating as it was to be under the strict command of that  _beta_ , but Sidious had proven time and time again that he was stronger, that Aestus' alpha status was a  _weakness_  that placed him only just above the submissive, heat-crazed omegas in his Master's eyes.

But there was  _no way_  in all the Sith Hells that Aestus would be pulling out of Anakin before he was well and truly done with him. The mission could wait another fifteen minutes.

* * *

When Aestus stepped out of his ship, he was immediately slammed with the heavy scent of blood and death and fear so intense, so overwhelming that it very nearly disoriented him, and the frigid snapping chill in the Force left him nothing to grasp onto for balance. He was no stranger to the Dark Side, of course, not even to the strength of it he felt here, having been responsible for his own share of disturbance and mayhem over the years, but something here was... _off_. The Force was  _disturbed_ , almost howling with rage and warning in a way that Sidious would have  _severely_  disapproved of. It was too early, too soon for this sort of darkness to be so boldly exposed, as his Master had said time and time again every time Aestus' lust for blood got the better of him, such a display only serving to draw the attention of the Jedi and risk revealing Sidious' plans, and it was  _far_  too early for him to make his move.

It was little wonder that Sidious wanted to have a look at this Dark Sider.

There was a certain apprehension gnawing deep at the heart of him, bitter and violent and possessive, and he could feel himself bristling with unease and that raw, primal need to establish his dominion. In light of the vicious scolding his Master laid upon him only hours earlier, it seemed more than likely that Darth Sidious was...keeping his options open or was outright looking for a new apprentice, one that was powerful in the Dark Side and not burdened by the same... _affliction_  as the overly dominating alpha male. Another beta or an omega would be an easier thing for Sidious to control, and he'd have a disciplined, calculating apprentice like he had wanted, one that better suited his carefully laid plans and sinister machinations, one that possessed mastery of himself and his urges, if he had them at all.

And Aestus would not  _stand_  for being replaced.

He wasn't even sure how to go about capturing such a creature, and even if he could, Aestus wasn't thinking about it. He would have to see what kind of a creature he was dealing with, though based on the raw brutality of the executions in the town square of the settlements, it seemed very likely to him that they were dealing with an out of control alpha, which would do little to serve Sidious' purposes, and if Aestus just so happened to  _accidentally_  kill the man in the attempt to capture him...well, this Dark Sider wasn't so very powerful after all. Certainly not worthy of Darth Sidious' attention.

The trail was easy enough to follow, aided by the faint scent of another alpha in the air, and Aestus found his heart racing with excitement in the anticipation of slaying this menace. It had been a while since he had a good fight, one that was worthy of him. So much of his alpha posturing had been spent relentlessly driving his knot deep inside a submissive, begging omega, staking his claim with rough fucking and the flood of his cum, but that didn't satisfy that  _itch_ , the need to prove his superiority not to the easily dominated omegas, but to a powerful alpha, to leave no question as to his right to claim what he wished, that he was  _not_  to be challenged, not by anyone. He needed this fight. He needed to see this Dark Sider meek and cowering at his feet before Aestus deprived him of his head.

The feel of the Force grew colder,  _darker_  the moment he stepped into the woods at the edge of town, though oddly, the scent of this did not seem to grow stronger the further he ventured in. For a moment, Aestus thought that he had been turned around, that he had somehow lost his way, or that he had been scenting some other alpha back at the settlement, but more than likely, it was the Force itself, muddling his senses instead of sharpening them as it usually did, and he could feel himself bristle with unease and irritation. There it was again, that feel of  _wrongness_ , strange and somehow so,  _so_  familiar, and Aestus couldn't puzzle out exactly what it was, couldn't place the exact origin of the creature he sought. The Force was concealing him, or else he was hiding like some  _coward_ , which was not the behavior of an alpha. This creature may very well be something else.

Aestus stopped his silent stalking through the woods when he saw two people standing still and silent through the trees, and with a feral grin, he quickly stalked toward them, the smell of another alpha becoming thick in the air as he drew closer. These two were  _alphas_ , and more than that, they were  _Jedi_ , calm and serene as only Jedi could be and sporting the cream colored robes of their Order, though as he approached, he Aestus could see the soft, thick fabric to be stained with dirt and grime and hanging disheveled and uneven upon their shoulders as though they had recently been part of a struggle. While the prospect of killing Jedi was  _always_  a welcome one, Aestus felt anger well up inside him as he felt the previously overwhelming feel of darkness vanish as though it had never been there at all. He was too late. The Jedi had beaten him here and had very likely slain his target.

Sidious was right. That extra fifteen minutes may have made all the difference.

Snarling in rage, Aestus drew his lightsaber, the red blade igniting with a snapping hiss that drew the attention of the Jedi, the two sluggishly turning toward him and igniting their own green blades, and Aestus felt his step falter, quickly stopping his advance as the Jedi rushed toward him. They had the unmistakable scent of alpha upon them, but beyond that... _nothing_. None of the fear he always smelled upon the Jedi, none of the adrenaline that always flooded the blood before a fight, no excitement, no anger, not even that reach for calm and balance so often exhibited by the Jedi.

They smelled, they  _felt_  like  _nothing_.

And that was enough to unsettle Aestus.

The Sith Lord dodged out of the way of the rapidly descending blades, snarling in fury when he felt the heat of the plasma arcing through the air as he slipped behind the Jedi pair and brought his own weapon slashing out at them, only to have the woman deftly parry his strike and force Aestus to the defensive, which was a place he was not comfortable being, but his own reeling senses prevented him from seizing the upper hand. It was... _impossible_ , that two beings, even the supposedly stalwart Jedi, could register as  _nothing_  to Aestus' refined senses, and as he blocked the Jedi's swift, emotionless advance, the green blades violently knocked away in an effort to provide him an opening large enough that the other could not cover, he found himself struggling to come to terms with an enemy that was entirely  _numb_ , and the more he thought about it, the more unsettled and driven to the edge of outright panic he became.

Which only made him  _furious._

Spinning swiftly to sidestep an upward slash, Aestus slashed out with a wide, vicious arc, catching the next blade as it thrust toward him and opening the Jedi's guard. He moved in swiftly, his blade poised over his shoulder and he thrust the saber forward, the red tip sinking swiftly through the Jedi's neck, a vicious, triumphant grin on Aestus' face that was quickly wiped away when he saw not fear or shock in the Jedi's eyes, but the hazy, distant expression of one who was already dead, and had been for some time. With a savage cry that was equal parts rage, disgust and confused panic, Aestus wrenched the lightsaber sideways, slicing through half the Jedi's neck as he spun and stabbed behind him, the blade sinking deep into the other Jedi's chest as she rushed him, her face as blank and dead as he companion.

The lightsaber stayed ignited in his hand, his entire body trembling with excited rage as the body fell dead to the ground, the forest still and silent as the smell of charred flesh and death permeated the air, the scent of the alphas quickly fading with the Jedi's execution. And still, through it all, the scent of something still lingered, something beyond the death and the fading pheromones. There was something  _there_ , someone very,  _very_  near, though the scent was  _faint_ , barely perceptible, nearly scentless, and Aestus  _couldn't find him_.

He sniffed at the air, spun in circles trying to find where the scent led. It was male for certain, a  _beta_  almost for certain, though it was by far the blandest Aestus had ever smelled, barely even the slightest hint of anything upon him, though that deep, unsettling feeling returned, the pull of the intimately familiar and the frightful unknown entwined together in such a way that set his nerves on edge. He wasn't certain if it was the Dark Side that was aiding this creature in suppressing his scent, but whatever it was, Aestus knew he was there, could feel him,  _smell him_ , and his rage continued to rise with each second that uncertainty and confusion held him in a cold grasp.

High above on his perch in the tree's canopy, Lumis leaned forward and observed with vast interest the creature below, almost more beast than man as he brutally slew his Jedi slaves, and now was furiously stalking about, back and forth and in circles as he sniffed at the air. When the beast restlessly paced to the other side of the massive tree he sat in, Lumis dropped down to a lower limb, landing silently upon it very near the tree's trunk to keep the branch from shaking, though the leaves still rustled from the impact, and mere seconds later, the man below darted back into sight, a furious, feral snarl ripping from his throat, to frighten his quarry from hiding or in frustration to find nothing there, Lumis did not know. He blended in with the shadows, rending himself invisible to all but the most trained eyes, though it was very clear that the man below knew he was there, which was unusual enough to pique Lumis' interest.

And  _what_  a man it was. Almost golden auburn colored his hair like the hues of autumn, eyes that blazed with Sith yellow and red and a presence in the Dark Side that made him nearly  _shimmer_  with power, the man was tall and powerfully built, taller than Lumis was by a few inches with a thick musculature that contrasted with his own lean build. There was a certain... _savagery_  to this man, something wild and feral and animal that screamed of primal impulse and a lack of control that was well past the point of dangerous, but everything else...

His presence in the Force, the very  _feel_  of him, his facial features, his colors...

The hair may have been longer, his beard not quite so immaculately trimmed as Lumis', and he was certainly taller, physically stronger, but there was no doubt about it. This man was, or had some point  _been_  Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He was looking at  _himself_.

Lumis supposed he should have been more shocked than he felt, but a sense of calm acceptance washed through him, leaving him almost serene in his curiosity. This was a different time, a different place. It almost seemed to make sense that his mirror in this place should find him. They were identical resonants in the Force,  _of course_  the Dark Side would see to it that they were drawn together.

He watched his twin below for a while, a slight, amused smirk on his lips as the savage him grew increasingly more angry, more distressed and unsettled, his mental walls under so much tension and strain that they had already begun to show long, wide cracks and weaknesses, easy points of entry for Lumis to exploit if need be. He didn't understand  _how_  this Kenobi had come to be this way, standing in such stark contrast to his own tight restraint and near perfect control, how any version of him could be anything other than measured and calm, even as rage and hatred and agony bubbled and boiled just beneath his icy veneer.

But this one held no restraint at all, nothing staving back the snarling, snapping creature of darkness that rested deep inside him, like he had never learned how to control such a thing, like he had been left to the wild to fend for himself, but this was clearly not the case. His swordplay was brutal, yes, but clearly practiced, showing the clear markings of a student of Juyo, which happened to be the preferred style of Darth Sidious, the distinctive markings of his own Master's technique obvious in the way his copy wielded his blade. No, this Kenobi was very obviously a student of Darth Sidious, a Sith Lord, not simply an acolyte, so Lumis couldn't understand why the Sith Master had allowed his apprentice to become... _this_. Untamed and uncontrolled, when his own Master vaunted control and master above all else.  _This_  Kenobi seemed to have no such training, no control or restraint, and he struggled to imagine a scenario in which this would be allowed to happen, when Obi-Wan himself had been the very image of measured control and should have been  _disgusted_  by this uncivilized behavior.

It was too much. Lumis  _had_  to know, had to find out in what ways this man differed from him, and  _why._  The circumstances which led him to this, little more than a feral animal, a savage beast, snarling and prowling and sniffing at the air as though his refined sense of the Force was secondary to his sense of smell. True, he was stressed now, uncertain and unsure as any animal in the presence of a strange, unseen threat,, which no doubt heightened the man's feral nature, but still, looking upon this Obi-Wan, Lumis  _had_  to know, had to discover at what point this creature diverged from himself.

"I know you're there!" his other self shouted just as curiosity nearly got the better of Lumis, the accent thick and heavy with his frustration and his rage. Lumis dropped silently to the ground when the other paced away, his back pressed firmly to the trunk of the tree to keep out of sight. "I can  _feel_  you, Dark Sider! Come out and face me!"

"Please, put down your weapon," Lumis said as he stepped out of the shadows and around the trunk of the tree into the little clearing, the other man quickly turning to face him, saber raised and eyes blazing with furious anger just before they widened in shock and confusion and a profound lack of understanding as he stared into a face nearly identical to his. Lumis raised his arms into the air, the slight interested smirk never leaving his lips as he gently touched at the man's mental walls and silently slipped his claws between the widening cracks. "I surrender."

Lumis kept his eye on the man as he slowly circled him, his lips curled up in a vicious sneer, though cautiously keeping his distance as Lumis slowly,  _gently_  thumbed at his mental defenses, wormed his way through the undefended walls. So focused was the man opposite him, so fixated on the body double that stood before him that Lumis could poke and prod without drawing the man's attention to the gentle pressure of the Dark Side clawing at his mind's defenses. It was almost too easy. He was wild, out of control, and this lack of discipline and the shock of finding a reflection of himself was throwing this wild man off balance, leaving him open and vulnerable to exactly the sort of mental assault that Lumis excelled at.

The Force violently shifted, pulled toward Lumis' larger twin and screaming in warning, the snarling man's frustration and confusion spiking and leaving him with the single-minded need to kill that which he didn't understand. The bulky muscles tensed, the hand tightened around his saber, and rising to the balls of his feet with a bone-chilling howl of absolute fury and rage, the savage Dark Sider sprinted toward Lumis. No sooner had the man moved did Lumis thrust his hand out toward his attacker and swiftly clench his fist, and his twin's eyes flew open as his heels dug into the soft earth of the forest floor, skidding to a sudden stop, the saber dropping from his hands as he grasped his head against the sudden pain. Lumis was already inside, slipping through the cracks as his opponent paced, and with a cruel smirk on his lips, he dove deeper, his hands sinking deep inside the mind that now furiously resisted him.

Aestus snarled and snapped at the air against the sudden pain, his eyes shut tightly as he felt something worming through his brain like a hundred writhing, hissing snakes that twisted and thrashed as they burrowed their way through the soft flesh inside his head. Attempts to throw up his mental shielding resulted in only more pain, sharp and sudden as if he were simply slamming his head against a wall in an effort to move it, and even as he felt his walls fortify, the unsettling sensation of something deep in his mind only intensified, as if he had only managed to trap the intruder inside instead of forcing them out. Deep inside him, through the pain of his struggle against the invisible chains that swiftly tightened around him, Aestus could hear soft, amused laughter and a gentle, seductive voice with the same clipped accent he possessed speak, effortlessly mingling with his own violent, screaming thoughts as if they were his own.

 _Kneel_.

It was quiet at first, a soft, inconspicuous whisper in the back of his mind that he ignored as he thrashed against the invisible grasp that held him, until it slowly grew louder, more frequent, like a deep, pervasive itch that grew worse the more he thought about it and couldn't reach to scratch. The louder the voice became, the more often it spoke, the more furious Aestus became, the harder he fought against it even though he could scarcely tell the difference between the gentle command and his own raging thoughts, even though they couldn't have been more different. Even though something about the insidious voice that both was and wasn't his made him feel  _good_ , each seductive beacon to submit sending a spike of euphoria ripping through his body and leaving him feeling confused and hazy in its wake.

But he  _wouldn't_  submit. Aestus growled deeply and stood his ground, squinting through bleary, burning eyes as the calm, almost serene man that stood before him, his control absolute, his confidence infallible, and he  _hated him_. Aestus was  _alpha_ , not some sniffling, weak-minded omega that caved to even the slightest touch of one stronger, that lived only to submit to a strong, firm hand. And despite his resistance, despite his strong will, despite his hatred for the threat that stood unafraid before him, his  _body_  did not agree, and Aestus howled in helpless, anguished outrage as he slowly sunk to his knees, his body moving on its own and against his will to kneel at the feet of the man that looked  _so much_  like him. Try as he might, Aestus could not compel his body to rise, to throw himself away, to resist his unwilling submission to this... _Dark Sider_ , his mysterious twin, and he found himself trapped inside his own mind, helpless to do anything but submit and obey, and he  _hated_  him nearly as much as he hated himself.

"I  _did_  surrender, did I not?" the Dark Sider drawled, his fingers hooking under Aestus' chin and forcing him to look up into his eyes, and try as he might, he couldn't move to bite at the vile hand. "You brought this upon yourself. I did not wish to fight you."

"What...kind of a  _freak are you_?!" Aestus managed to bite out through his tightly clenched teeth. "You are  _Dark Side_ , what sort of Dark Sider  _surrenders_?!"

"One that doesn't fight when I do not understand the situation I find myself in, Aestus," he said slowly, his eyes searching the man's face, confusion and anger mixing in equal parts in the glow of his eyes and the aggressive twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"How do you know me?" Aestus whispered, his chest tight as apprehension kept him from breathing in his vulnerable state, and his other self chuckled softly as he released his chin.

"I'm in your mind, a name is a simple thing to find," the man drawled, the slight arrogant smirk on his lips sending Aestus back to snarling and struggling, a short-lived thing that ended when his sudden resistance was met with pain and the silent command to be still, and he was helpless to do anything but obey. "But more than that, I  _am_  you. Surely you have sensed it. You're strong in the Force, and though you may be wild and have the control of a stubborn infant, you are  _not_  stupid."

"...a  _clone_ ," Aestus snapped, his temper rising, though he was powerless to act upon it. "A pale, small,  _pitiful_  imitation!"

"And yet, you  _still_  have been made to kneel before me..." he said, his voice suddenly cold and flat, asserting his command not with the howling declarations that Aestus employed, but with the quiet expectation that his will be obeyed. "I am no clone," he said, softer this time, less of a Master and more an equal, a  _peer_ , as laughable as that was given that Aestus was kneeling. "My name is Darth Lumis, and like you, I was once Obi-Wan Kenobi."

For a long time, Aestus was silent, staring up into golden eyes that matched his own, blazing with rage and hate and dark fury in a calm, serene face, and in them, he could see the power of the Dark Side within them, a vicious, snarling beast no less feral than his own, though while Aestus allowed his darkness to run free, this... _Lumis_  kept his tightly controlled with thick, heavy chains. This man was, without question, a reflection of himself, raw darkness hid behind a sophisticated, polished veneer, contained and controlled and  _so different_  while being identical all the same in a way that a clone could never be. He was more twin than clone, a real person, the  _actual_  article rather than a mere copy, and he couldn't wrap his mind around the idea, how something like this could have happened. It made him feel  _stupid_ , like he wasn't worthy of doing anything else but kneeling here before a man who wasn't sent reeling by the impossible.

"I...don't understand," Aestus growled, spitting the words like they were bitter on his tongue, like his failure to comprehend this was a weakness that he had no choice but to confess to.

"I fail to understand as well," Lumis said, his long fingers sliding into Aestus' hair, and the kneeling Sith snarled dangerously, tried to snap at the hand, but found his body uncooperative as he leaned against the touch instead, an outraged scream torn from his throat that did nothing to frighten the calm man into stopping. "But you are going to help me understand." He flashed a slight, pleasant smile at his petulant, angry captive. "I advise against resistance, my dear. Even the gentlest touch can be...distressingly painful when met with enough struggle."

Before Aestus could protest, light exploded behind his eyes and he felt nothing but pain, sharp and agonizing like a white-hot knife sinking deep inside his head, and the more he fought, the more he tried to force it from his mind, the slower it cut and the more painful it became. When that smooth, calm voice ordered him to relax, he had no choice but to obey, his muscles growing slack and his metal defenses dropping away, gently lowered by the hand on his head as it affectionately stroked his hair back. While he struggled against this as well, vehemently objecting to being treated like some  _pet_  to this powerful man, a part of him begrudgingly accepted it, some primal piece of his mind that was  _grateful_  that the man that had dominated him was kind and comforting when he had no cause to be.

A dominated alpha was a  _humiliation_ , a proud being made low by a creature that had no right to that position. Aestus felt this way with Sidious in the beginning, and was violently handled every time he rose against his Master, too often felt the burning sting of Force lightning lashing at his skin as a reminder that he was  _nothing_ , just as he was nothing now. Lumis could kill him. Lumis had the  _right_  to kill him, to end his life with a stroke of the lightsaber that Aestus knew he possessed and had yet to draw once. And while piece of him wished he would, wished he would simply draw his blade and end his humiliation of being brought so low, the part of him that craved life and survival felt nothing but gratitude for the creature that dominated him, and he soon felt he was fighting himself more than the controlling grasp in his mind, felt himself struggling with the desire to continue fighting and that primal need to submit.

Slowly, between his own body's disgusting subservience, the gentle hand in his hair, and the soft, almost hypnotic voice like a haze in his mind, Aestus found himself submitting, his struggle ceasing and the pain leaving him as he relented. Oh, he was  _absolutely_  going to kill this presumptuous beta, but Aestus was smart enough,  _cowed_  enough to know that it wouldn't be now, when Lumis had full control of the situation. He would sit back, and he would wait, study his new enemy, and when he had the chance, when he better understood, he would wrap his hands around the smaller man's neck and choke the life out of him, or thrust his saber through his vile, blackened heart. He had to, he was too great a threat. This was  _exactly_  the sort of apprentice that Sidious would desire, exactly the sort of powerful, controlled creature that his Master would prefer over Aestus, devoid of the primal weakness of rut that being a beta blessed him with. And more than that, this Lumis was already  _Darth_ , already a Lord of the Sith. The perfect replacement for the wild, uncontrolled apprentice.

Aestus  _would not be replaced_.

Lumis could feel the moment the powerful, wild mind of Aestus yielded to him, a begrudging, hateful thing that filled the man on his knees before him with wrath and disgust and self-loathing for his inferiority, all traits he recognized in himself as well, placed there by his struggle with Jedi values long ago, though they were greatly amplified in his twin. Still, despite the raging edge of resistance within him, Lumis found the mind in his grasp pliant and yielding, devoid of the brittleness that fight and struggle created, and therefore safe to sift through and manipulate without any harm done. A pliant mind bent, didn't break, and with the knowledge that wild,  _proud_  Aestus would see no damage done to him, Lumis gently pressed deep inside the man's memories, looking for the common thread that linked them and the split in the paths they had taken to leave them so strikingly different.

It was an easy thing to find, though it was so deep in Aestus' consciousness that Lumis was certain he had forgotten it. The childhood of a Jedi, all short-cropped hair and discipline and lessons on control and warnings of what dangerous paths emotions cut through a heart gifted with the power of the Force. And there, among it all, was Obi-Wan Kenobi, too rebellious for any Master to be in a hurry to train, routinely passed over for safer students, for those that showed less inclination toward defiance that would make their training difficult. So often over looked, so often denied that young Obi-Wan began to become insecure and uncertain, plagued with self-doubt and desperation that led to almost crippling anxiety and a steadfast dedication to strive for perfection, only to leave him with a lacking sense of self-worth when he inevitably fell short.

Lumis softly hummed soothing reassurance to Aestus when the man began to whimper, painful and heart-wrenching for the physically imposing man to look upon his younger, weaker self, a painful time for the both of them that had come to shape the men they would come to be. The paths diverged at Bandomeer, where young Obi-Wan, desperate in his yearning to become a Jedi Knight, had sought out Master Qui-Gon Jinn, another Jedi seen as unconventional and rebellious, and begged him to be his student, the last chance he had before becoming a Jedi Knight slipped out of his grasp forever. For Lumis, the harrowing mission gone wrong that Obi-Wan had valiantly participated in led Qui-Gon to see his potential and agree to his training, leading to many long years at Master Jinn's side as he grew to adulthood and, guided by Qui-Gon, proved himself worthy of becoming a Jedi Knight.

Aestus never had the chance.

Unlike Lumis, the young man that would become Darth Aestus was left by Qui-Gon Jinn on Bandomeer, the old Master failing to deem Obi-Wan worthy of training, leaving the young teen to return bitter and angry to Coruscant, condemned to a life of wasted potential, never to see himself trained for Knighthood like he had dreamed of his entire life. That resentment led to a swift descent to darkness, and that darkness attracted the attention of the Sith Master, Darth Sidious, who was more than happy to relieve the Jedi of the raw potential that sat unnoticed right under their noses.

He was wild and angry, feral and ruthless in a way that Lumis rarely saw, and it was not long before the young Obi-Wan Kenobi slew Sidious'  _other_  apprentice before Sidious had a chance to pit them against each other in a contest to the death where the other boy may have the advantage. Maul was brutal, fast and athletic, a very serious threat the Aestus killed in his sleep, bisecting the body and the bed he laid upon and stabbing him in the head when the screams  _wouldn't stop_. Sidious hadn't been angry, as Obi-Wan had expected, but  _terribly_  pleased, enough to call him a true apprentice and strip him of his old name, allowing him to move forward as Darth Aestus, Lord of the Sith.

It had been all brutality and butchery after that, years of training Aestus in the more primal, physical aspects of the Force and using him as his own personal assassin when the need arose, which had been a stark contrast to Lumis' own training with his Sith Master, which had strongly focused on his natural talents in mental manipulation, a thing he had learned from his time as a Jedi. But Aestus never had such training. All he had was hate and rage and bitterness, no real skills and talent to draw upon, a blunt club instead of a sharpened sword, and Sidious used him as such. Aestus was made to be wild and brutal, to conquer his enemies with overwhelming might, to be an instrument of fear and brutality, powerful, yes, terribly so, but not  _skilled_ , and therefore easier to control.

The parallels between Darth Aestus and Darth Maul were not lost on Lumis, but while the Maul in his world grew and lived and thrived, only to suffer his defeat to the Padawan Kenobi on Naboo, Aestus slaughtered his Maul before he even had a chance to begin, and in doing so, replaced him. It was...sad, actually, unworthy of his talent and potential, and it became very clear that, like he had done with Maul and again with Dooku, this Sidious was merely biding his time until something better cam along. It was  _insulting_ , and Lumis could feel his own hatred for  _his_  Master grow. Sidious always,  _always_  meant to replace him, regardless of the circumstances which he joined the Sith, it seemed. It only cemented his need to destroy the old man, and soon. The moment he returned to his own world, he would be certain that Darth Sidious met an awful,  _pitiful_  end at his hand.

"Aestus _,_ " Lumis said, releasing the man's hair and slowly stepping away, though the powerful hold on the kneeling man's mind remained. "I'm going to release you, alright? I am disinclined to fight you, but if you decide to do something  _foolish_  like attack me, I'll be forced to bring you to heel once again, and next time, I will not be so gentle." From his place on the ground, Aestus' eyes darted up and looked at Lumis with defiant rage, but the cold, hard look he found in the other Sith was enough to glance away. " _Don't even try it_ ," Lumis warned, the usual smooth of his voice suddenly rough and raw and dangerous, and Aestus felt a sharp, painful tug deep in his mind. "I think you will find it  _very_  difficult to keep me from getting back inside your mind now that I've already been in. Not that you were difficult to begin with." Lumis clasped his hands behind his back, a pleasant smile on his face, though his eyes blazed with warning that Aestus did not want to test. "Do we have an understanding?"

"... _yes_ ," Aestus growled softly, and a moment later, the Sith Lord felt the pressure on his mind release and he collapsed to the ground with a deep, satisfied groan, as if the hand grasping his consciousness had been holding him up when his body went limp with submission. It took a moment to push himself up on shaking arms, and he slowly got to unsteady feet, forgoing speed for stability in the hopes of saving him the further humiliation of being unable to keep his footing on top of everything else. He glanced up at Lumis, the Sith Lord watching him curiously, but not unkindly, and Aestus' lips curled up in a sneer as he brushed himself off. He could feel himself burn with rage and humiliation, though he forced himself to banish the bitter, angry frown on his face. It wouldn't do to incite the wrath of this Darth Lumis, not after he had so throughly brought him low, not when he could feel a distant irritation in the back of his brain that made him believe that this other Sith was not as gone from his mind as he had said.

"You are  _nothing_  like me," Aestus said slowly, carefully, drawing up tall and expanding his chest, a dominant gesture, though Lumis seemed indifferent to his posturing. Lumis chuckled softly, his golden eyes closing as a faint, easy smile came to his lips.

"No, very different, that is true..." Lumis said quietly. "Our paths diverged early. You and I abandoned Obi-Wan at very different times, and it has led us to this. Aestus and Lumis. Lords of the Sith. No matter the time we abandoned the Jedi, you and I seemed to always be fated for darkness."

"I didn't abandon the Jedi!" Aestus snapped, cautiously testing the wide berth he had given the other Sith and cautiously creeping closer, his head ducking lower in unconscious submission. "The Jedi abandoned me!"

"I know..." Lumis said almost kindly. "I've seen it inside you. Certainly you felt it." A mischievous smirk touched Lumis lips as he watched Aestus struggle to creep closer, the man snarling and frustrated as he alternated between anger and submission and murderous intent and begrudging respect. "Although, I must say, most of the time I must keep myself guarded against those who would attempt to reach through to my mind. I half expected you to attempt to attempt to look within me." Lumis shrugged almost casually. "I almost wish you had. I would have allowed it."

"You would have given up this power?" Aestus gasped, staring at the other Sith for a moment before harshly laughing. "What kind of a fool would allow themselves to be exposed to such weakness!"

"I do not believe there is any question as to who is in charge here, Aestus," Lumis drawled, though there was the edge of something firm and commanding in his otherwise gentle tone that made Aestus growl and step back. "As I said, I would have  _allowed_  it. You and I are the same man. In respect to the man that I could have been, were my circumstances different, it's a courtesy I can extend."

"I don't understand!" Aestus snarled, becoming more and more frustrated with each passing moment he failed to grasp the meaning of his twin before him. "We  _cannot_  be the same man, you and I  _cannot exist together_! Explain to me how it is possible for Obi-Wan Kenobi to become both Aestus  _and_  Lumis!"

"I do not yet fully understand it myself..." Lumis said thoughtfully, his arm folded over his chest and his hand lightly stroking his beard as he pondered the question. "But this is  _not_  my world, for lack of a better term. I do not understand how I came to be in this place, but I am here none the less. I need to return home. There is work to be done that cannot be accomplished without me, and no doubt you would be eager to be rid of me."

"You're right, I would..." Aestus snarled before he thought about what Lumis had said, and scoffed in disbelief. "And all of that is  _insane_. It doesn't make any sense.  _No_ , you are a  _clone_ , a clone my Master made to  _test me_. I see no better explanation."

"But you  _know_  that isn't the case," Lumis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his frustrations slowly began mounting. "You can sense it, you can  _feel_  I am genuine. Look, it would be better for me to show you," he said swiftly, shaking out his hands and taking a few quick strides toward the other Sith, only to have Aestus growl in warning and back away cautiously, and Lumis couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you..."

"I don't believe you!" Aestus snapped. "You did before! You and your...your  _mind tricks_. I will not be subjugated again!"

"That isn't the point of this," Lumis snapped slightly in return, though he did not move forward again. "I looked inside you and saw your abandonment on Bandomeer by Master Qui-Gon Jinn," he said, the other Sith's shoulders knotting with tension at the very mention of the Jedi. "I saw how you fell. I saw  _why_  you fell. I'm going to reach inside your mind again, yes, but only to show you what's inside  _me_. I believe it will allow us to understand each other better. Yes?"

Aestus was still for a moment, his eyes narrowed and hardly breathing as he observed the man, tentatively sniffing the air for any sign of the hormonal changes brought on by the emotions that Lumis was not expressing, but like before, he was as bland and scentless as anyone he had ever seen. His gaze unconsciously drifted to the two Jedi on the ground, both slain by his hand, though they were in many ways dead before Aestus had even arrived, both completely void of emotion, thought and scent, and he couldn't repress the shiver that ran up his spine, equal parts unsettling and admirable. When he looked back at Lumis, the man had followed his gaze to stare at the Jedi as well, his impassive calm touched with the faintest edge of disgust or disdain.

"You did that to them," Aestus said, pointing to the Jedi, and Lumis slowly nodded. "I've never seen anything like it.  _How_."

"It's simple enough..." Lumis said slowly, his attention returning to the Jedi as a cruel smirk crossed his face. "Breaking Jedi is my speciality."

"But  _how_."

For a moment, Lumis seemed to consider this, his gaze drifting upwards as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and slowly, he said, "Much like what I did with you, I entered their minds."

"But  _I_  am not like  _that_ ," Aestus said firmly, pointing an almost accusing finger at the Jedi.

"Mm, I was careful with you, Aestus. I caused you pain, maybe, but I made no press forward until your own mind yielded to me." He casually flicked his wrist as if the be rid of something distasteful upon his hand, a look of mind disgust on his face. "I did no such thing with these Jedi scum. They were young, and they were unawares, and they only purposed they served to me was to lure the Sith here so that I may be in good company." When Lumis looked back at Aestus after considering the Jedi on the ground, he saw fury and malice, the full weight of the Dark Side in those golden eyes, and it made his heart beat fast in his chest with the thrill of kinship in cruelty. "Exert enough force, and a brittle wall may shatter like glass, and they broke  _very_  quickly."

"You savaged their minds," Aestus said excitedly, braving a chance to creep closer to Lumis, closer than he had managed to creep before, the relaxed posture of the other Sith making it easier to draw near. "You devoured them, you left nothing behind but...mindless obedience." He nodded in understanding. "You are violent. Like me." Aestus took another step forward, now just out of arm's reach of the other man. "Show me. Show me how you came to be so different from me when we are so alike."

"You may find it more comfortable to be on your knees, sharing another's memories can be disorienting." When Aestus didn't move, merely growled softly and drew up defiantly taller, Lumis shrugged, shook out his hands, and stepped toward the Sith, slowly reaching out to lay the tips of his long, manicured fingers upon Aestus' temple. "Suit yourself..." The sudden tension in the taller man's thick muscles and the wary look in his eye made Lumis click his tongue in soft chastisement. "You must relax. Open yourself to me. This can be uncomfortable is you fight."

"I am  _not_  fighting..." Aestus growled, his teeth bared in warning, and when Lumis arched an eyebrow, Aestus felt himself flush with embarrassment when he made Lumis' point for him. Cursing quietly under his breath, Aestus closed his eyes, forced himself to take a deep, calming breath, and groaned softly when he felt the cold pressure close in around him and the disconcerting relief when he felt his mind part to allow Lumis to slide deep inside him, the slow, maddening pulse of pleasured euphoria making his defenses willingly weaken and the entry easier. For just a moment, he felt  _omega_ , the feel of another within him, even if the penetration was mental, not physical, making him fill with satisfied relaxation, like a craving need had been sated by feeling the cold grasp within him, and it made him  _sick_. Nausea roiling in his gut and suddenly light-headed, Aestus dropped to his knees with a groan, but lacked the will to do anything about the Sith Lord he allowed inside him.

The visions came fast at first in bright, blinding flashes, hazy and unclear and too quick to see until they slowed, the brightness dimming and allowing Aestus' mind a chance to adjust, a thing made easier when the Sith Lord saw something deeply familiar and viscerally upsetting. Obi-Wan Kenobi, young and bright eyed and  _desperate_  as he fought beside Qui-Gon Jinn on Bandomeer, the Master he never had for the Padawan he never was. It was unsettling, upsetting, something he had thought about often since his induction to the Sith, but the familiarity in this strange, off-putting circumstance was a comfort and gently eased him into the memories of the past that played before his eyes.

But that was where the similarities ended. Instead of being abandoned and rejected,  _this_  Obi-Wan had impressed Qui-Gon Jinn, had shown the Jedi Master that he was worth training, that he had potential that the rest of the Order had yet to fully understand, that he was worthy of becoming a Jedi Knight, and together, they returned to Coruscant as Master and Padawan. Things moved quickly after that, flashes of a life that was and wasn't his playing before his eyes like a holodrama that he knew intimately well and not at all. The story of a rebellious child make uncertain and insecure by rules and expectations he struggled to meet, a boy afraid to waste the chance he had been given and threw himself into his dedication to his studies to the exclusion of all else. A shy, quiet boy that was harder on himself than the Jedi ever were, forging an iron resolve and an outwardly perfect control to hide the crippling insecurities he suffered in his attempts to be the perfect Jedi he was meant to be.

Aestus saw visions of war, horrific and brutal and bloody that stood in sharp contrast to flashes of bare skin and sweet moans wrung from a beautiful girl with pale blond hair as the Padawan gently thrust inside her, the two teenagers falling deeply, helplessly in love under the emotional duress of the ravages of war, all done in secret away from the eyes of the Jedi Master. And then it ended when Qui-Gon had forced Obi-Wan to choose between emotion and Jedi dispassion, between what he yearned for and his duty, and stalwart Obi-Wan truly had no choice as he turned his back on her, guilt and regret and remorse sitting hard and deep within him, carefully hidden behind the wall he had built around himself and the quiet comfort of the Jedi Code. It was a deep, secret thing he kept just for himself to cling to when he was alone, when nobody was looking, and Kenobi had tended the flame, even though it had burned him to do so.

Then there was a mission to a planet covered in sand, where a frustrated older Padawan watched as his Master brought yet another of his  _causes_  with him to the ship, a boy strong in the Force, young, yet too old to train, and Obi-Wan couldn't understand what it was his Master thought to do with such a child beyond displace him and bring him far away from his family and the life he had always known. He learned later the intent when Qui-Gon had brought the child to be tested by the Council, and realized with sinking apprehension that his Master sought to champion the boy for training, even though he was far too old. They had fought over the matter then, not over the boy, but over the Master's stubborn refusal to listen to the Council, to follow the Code so that he may reach higher within the Order, so that he may sit on the Council himself. Small cracks over the years growing wider as the Padawan and the Master clashed over their vastly differing views. Obi-Wan, who believed rules were in place for a reason, and Qui-Gon, who almost seemed to believe they were made to be broken.

More telling was what happened afterwards, when the Council agreed with Obi-Wan's assessment that the boy was too old, had too much fear and anger for Jedi training to be successful, when they had denied the boy the right to training, and Qui-Gon Jinn, heedless of the Padawan he already kept by his side who loved him as a mentor and a father, cast him aside in order to train this powerful child. The image before Aestus' eyes trembled and wavered with powerful emotions, pain and betrayal and anger and a bitter cold that chilled young Obi-Wan straight down to the bone, the first time he had truly felt the touch of the Dark Side, and like Aestus, it had been at the hands of careless,  _thoughtless_  Qui-Gon Jinn. He and this Lumis, it seemed, had a great deal more in common that their vast differences would suggest.

And then there was  _Maul_ , older than Aestus remembered, skilled in a way he hadn't been in his own memory because Lumis had stayed with the Jedi, and the Nightbrother had been allowed to grow and flourish under years of instruction under Darth Sidious. He watched as the spy, athletic Maul picked the team of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon apart, and when they were separated, the double-bladed red lightsaber sunk through the Jedi Master's side, falling short of being fatal because Maul had been distracted by a powerful surge of the Dark Side. In his rage and fury, in the overwhelming feel of betrayal and guilt and loneliness, when he reached out to the Force and only felt unbalanced when it failed to answer his call, Obi-Wan Kenobi reached for the Dark Side, held it tightly in his hands, and found his balance in the cold and fury of darkness.

It was in that moment that Darth Lumis had been born, Aestus understood, when the furious Padawan found his center in the Dark Side and used its power to slay Darth Maul, the first Jedi in a thousand years to kill a Sith Lord, a point of almost bitter irony that it had taken a reach for darkness to accomplish something so lauded by the Jedi that the Padawan was allowed to forgo the need for the Trials and was Knighted upon his return.

The memories still flooded his mind, faster now, flashes of missions into Sith Space to root out and destroy the remainder of the Sith menace, the crafting of his own red saber out of the crystal from Maul's, his study of the Sith language and their philosophy. There were continued conflicts and bitterness between himself and Qui-Gon Jinn, the Master he had saved with the embrace of the dark, over the manner he was treated, cast aside when he felt he was not ready for knighthood, abandoned for a child he had barely known. Obi-Wan was left feeling that Qui-Gon had resented him for being denied the chance to train the new talent because he was stuck with Kenobi, and Obi-Wan in turn grew to hate his old Master for all he had done, for making him feel as though he was never good enough, like he simply existed to be replaced, like staying with the Jedi had been a  _mistake_.

There were images of slaughter, horrible memories of the nightmares that had plagued him, of himself and Sith locked in combat, only to have the Sith Lord, night after night, slay him upon the red blade, each passing day, the nightmares growing worse, the nightly battle finally ending when Obi-Wan finally triumphed, only to discover that  _he_  held the red blade, his Jedi self dead upon the floor, and he awakened to find his eyes stained gold with the fires of the Dark Side. Obi-Wan ventured deeper and deeper into darkness until it all culminated in a mission to Serenno to bring Dooku in for questioning about mysterious holes in important data that it seemed only the Count could answer for. The Jedi had trained Obi-Wan, prepared him to fight against Dooku in the event that suspicious Kenobi had been correct about him being one of their mysterious Sith Lords, but trained him not to  _win_ , but to have the strength to slay Dooku as he died upon the Sith Lord's blade.

The final visions Aestus saw were of a spectacularly failed mission, flashes of red and blue and green blades, of Force lightning and dead Jedi, of a wounded Jedi Master and a badly beaten Obi-Wan howling in rage and drawing deep of the Dark Side he had come to rely upon. It was then that Sidious arrived, confident and calm as always, and it took very little to convince Obi-Wan Kenobi to face what he had become, to kneel before the Sith Master and pledge himself to the Sith, to take his own red blade in hand and slay the remaining Jedi for all their personal betrayals. Years of Jedi training and control, all of it helpless to keep their brightest star from falling to darkness, all of it turned to refined dark purpose when Darth Lumis stood beside Sidious as  _Sith._

Aestus shuddered when he felt Lumis' presence withdraw from his mind, the cold lifting and leaving him in darkness before his vision slowly returned, and he found himself face down upon the forest floor, his heart racing for reasons he could not understand. Slowly, he pushed himself up to his feet and he cautiously observed the other Sith, standing a respectful distance away, his arms crossed over his chest and staring off into nothing at all. Aestus thought he had reason to hate Qui-Gon and the Jedi, but after that mess, that  _torture_  at the hands of the light, he was almost grateful to Qui-Gon for refusing him the training he so desperately wanted. By condemning the man he had been to a life of obscurity, he had gifted Aestus a comfortable,  _simple_  life, unburdened by the weight of the Jedi Code.

"Why would you even  _want_  to go back?" Aestus gasped, staring intently at his other self, and Lumis shifted from foot to foot, almost appearing to be made uneasy by the question, though Aestus was certain this wasn't the case.

"There are things I must do," Lumis said softly, his voice distant and his gaze never returning to the man he was speaking to, and Aestus took the opportunity while he was unobserved to creep closer to the man and slowly, carefully scent him, a faint smirk curling his lips when he found that beneath his bland, unsettling beta  _nonsense_ , he could detect the faint, sharp spice that he knew to be his own scent. "I've worked too hard and sacrificed too much to abandon it now..."

"...how do you plan on returning to..." Aestus paused, bit his lip and held his breath when Lumis finally turned curious eyes on him. "...I don't have the words for it. Your place in the world, I suppose."

"I was hoping for your aid in that, actually," Lumis said, straightening up and folding his arms behind his back. "I want you to take me to your Master." At that, Aestus drew back, hissing in fury and warning, his hand extended and calling his fallen saber to him, though when his fingers closed around the hilt, he found he lacked the nerve to draw it as he locked eyes with Lumis, and for a moment, he wasn't certain if he had miraculously developed a modicum of control, or if Lumis himself was altering his wants and desires.

"I will not," Aestus growled in warning, taking a few steps back to put some distance between him and Lumis so he could see the man's entire body, so he could react to any sudden movements, though he was certain that Lumis would not fight him. He didn't need to, not in the way Aestus would have liked.

"And why not?" Lumis scoffed. "Sidious has an impressive collection of Sith artifacts that may have the answer to sending me back to where I came."

"And do you believe for a  _moment_  that Master would let you go?!" Aestus snapped viciously, and Lumis drew back slightly when he felt the Force strain with anger and hatred, but above all else,  _fear_. "A Sith Lord like you is...all he ever wanted, he'd cast me aside without a second thought the second you stood before him and I  _won't be replaced, damn it_!"

"You make the assumption I would  _want_  to be trained by Sidious," Lumis sneered, a look of disgust on his face that turned Aestus' fears into cautious curiosity. "I have already served long enough under that pathetic old man. Darth Sidious has long survived his expiration date, and I mean to bring him to an end the  _moment_  I return home." Lumis waved his hand dismissively in the air. "No, my interest in your Master's extends only to how he can be of use to me."

"You would  _kill him_?" Aestus asked, his jaw slack with disbelief and almost awe at the absolute  _moronic_  ambition of Darth Lumis. "How?  _Why_?"

"Because..." Lumis drawled, a wry, bitter smirk touching his lips. "He means to replace me as well. And like you, Aestus my friend, I will  _not_  be replaced. Not again."

"I'm not certain Master wouldn't just  _take_  you..." Aestus mumbled before he drew up, tall and proud and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Not unlike an unruly puppy, Lumis thought, and he couldn't stop the creeping smile touching his lips. Aestus was... _simple_ , his life uncomplicated, focused on the now and not the future as Lumis was, and he couldn't help feeling envious for it. "But if it's Sith artifacts you need, you don't  _need_  to see Master. I have a  _collection_."

" _You_?" Lumis asked, surprised for a moment before a curious smile touched his lips and a hand drifted up to stroke his beard. "You keep a collection of Sith artifacts? Does Sidious allow such a thing?"

"No," Aestus scoffed. "But what he doesn't know can't hurt me!"

"Oh, you short-sighted idiot..." Lumis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's the purpose of this collection of yours? You cannot possibly know how to use such things."

"S-some of them!" Aestus growled, wrinkling his nose. "But most of them I thought...looked pretty. My display is  _quite_  magnificent," Aestus drawled, his chest puffed with pride and practically preening.

"Well, I can't say I don't appreciate a good aesthetic..." Lumis mumbled, smoothing down his robes and running his fingers through his hair. "I suppose you and I can figure them out together. It is a far more appealing option than having to grovel before Darth Sidious." He gestured before him, inclining his head slightly to the other Sith Lord. "Lead the way. Do you have a ship?"

" _Do I have a ship_..." Aestus scoffed, rolling his eyes and leaning in toward the amused Lumis. "Just wait until you see the bitch..."


	2. Aestus’ Best Day Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is posted a little later than desired because Glare is a very slow writer. They apologize for the delay.

Lumis supposed, when Aestus’ sleek ship finally dropped out of hyperspace that he should not have been terribly surprised to spy the molten surface of Mustafar through the viewports. There were very few planets as steeped in the Dark Side as the mining world, let alone those with the additional uninhabitability that would keep the nosier of galactic travelers at bay. The only others he could think of were those home to Sith ruins, and those planets were often unwelcoming even to those who followed the same creed. No, Mustafar was the logical choice--the planet’s heat a compliment to his twin’s fiery temper.

Aestus steered them through the planet’s sulphurous atmosphere, past the more familiar mining facilities and down to a seemingly abandoned building set far apart from the others. From where Lumis sat in the copilot’s seat, it appeared dilapidated, left to be consumed by the planet’s molten core, but there was no sign of another destination. He cringed at the thought of spending time in the run-down building, questioning its structural integrity; it would not do to find his way home only for the floor beneath him to give way and condemn him to a fiery death.

His unease with the situation must have been evident in his pinched expression, because Aestus leaned over and offered him what was probably meant to be a reassuring platitude of, “Don’t worry, she’s safer than she looks; I do all the maintenance myself.”

It was not nearly as effective as his twin likely meant it to be in settling his nerves, considering the other Sith left the Order before his education was complete and likely knew nothing about building code.

That being said, their ship settled onto the landing pad with only the expected amount of jostling, lending at least some credence to Aestus’s claim that the whole facility was not about to collapse under their feet. There was no groaning or shrieking of metal, nor did the molten sea below suddenly rise up to meet them. It seemed that Aestus had developed similar flight skills as himself despite his years beyond the Order.

Leading the way out of the ship, Aestus fished a pack of cigarras and matches from from an inside pocket of his cloak. Lumis eyed them disdainfully, never having much tolerance for the drug trade that flourished despite the best efforts of the galaxy’s law enforcement officials. Drinking, and sex, but never drugs. Drugs created weakness--a vulnerability to be exploited by an enemy, if they were crafty enough.

“That’s a filthy habit, you know,” Lumis mumbled as he followed Aestus down the loading ramp out onto the landing pad. His twin didn’t seem particularly concerned with the criticism, offering only an brief acknowledging glance over his shoulder as he stuck one of the cigs between his lips and lit up.

“We all have our vices,” Aestus replied, inhaling deeply and blowing the residual smoke toward Lumis with a teasing grin. The other sith scowled, waving a hand through the air to dispel it, but supposed he could not argue the point. Not everyone had the means to keep a palace full of sex slaves to cater to their every whim, forcing Aestus to seek solace in the arms of addiction instead when the Dark Side’s whispers became a little too loud in his ear.

Even before they’d entered the building, Lumis could feel the presence of Aestus’ collection within the Force. The Sith artifacts all but radiated Dark power, dropping the temperature of the air around them enough to take the edge off Mustafar’s oppressive heat. They cried out, begging for use, the strength of it nearly enough to take him off his feet. It was likely only Aestus’ inexperience that kept him from being effected in the same way; there was a part of Lumis that suspected he could not thrive around such a collection otherwise. It was like a thousand voices screaming in his ears, pounding at his shields. He drew them up tight in attempt to block the worst of it. At the heart of it all, nearly muted by the chaos of the dark, was a presence that sang out within the Force--both familiar and alien all at once. It tugged at something in the back of Lumis’ mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Have a keep a low profile,” Aestus explained as he ushered Lumis through the door. “As I said before, what my Master doesn’t know won’t hurt me, but discovery most certainly would.”

The inside of the facility, Lumis would come to find, was closer to organized chaos than any real system. Shelves lined nearly every room they travelled through, their contents ranging from mundane holocrons to bizarre artifacts that even Lumis could not identify on sight. They were sorted, it seemed, by the physical--objects of similar color, shape, or size grouped together with little consideration for their value or how they might interact with their neighbors. Aestus chattered happily as he lead the way through the building, pausing their tour occasionally to pick up or point out a particular object he apparently thought Lumis might take interest in.

Lumis nodded along with his words, but in truth they were little more than a buzzing in the back of his mind. The presence from earlier grew closer with every turn they took, the itch of familiarity getting worse and worse and distracting him from Aestus’ attempts at conversation. He was certain he knew it, had felt it before, but where? When?

Aestus did not notice when Lumis stalled in the next doorway, instead keeping pace and meandering through the messy bedroom he’s led them to toward a large, ornate bookshelf on the far wall. His fingers trailed along the disorganized shelves, jumping from book to book as he looked for something that might contain information on their current situation. A few of their ancient ancestors had once believed in the possibility of surpassing the boundaries of time and space, and while the alpha could not recall any particular instance where their experiments were met with success, perhaps their records could have been of use in helping Aestus’ twin find his own way home. He plucked a promising book from the shelf, flipping through the pages and muttering to himself.

Lumis, however, found that he could not take another step into the room. His eyes had caught at the side of the bed, where a nest of pillows and linens had been made atop the hardwood floor. While most of its occupant’s body was hidden by the blankets, what was visible was bared, suggesting nudity beneath. The mess of curly blonde hair was familiar, and the blue eyes that peered over the rim of the nest haunted Lumis’ dreams. They may have been half-lidded with a foreign docility, paled in contrast to the vivid bruising across his skin, but those were undoubtedly the eyes of Anakin Skywalker.

The sudden swell of rage and hatred that washed over him at the sight of the boy was enough to slip through even his impressive shields, dropping the temperature of the room a noticeable few degrees when the Dark Side rose up to answer his roiling emotions. It had occurred to him, of course, that this universe would have its own Anakin Skywalker. Lumis had simply assumed that the chances of encountering him would be so slim that he would not have to worry about the potential outcomes. After all, surely the Anakin Skywalker of this time and place would have been safely tucked away in the Temple, or rotting on Tatooine’s desert planes, or on the far ends of the galaxy on assignment.

It seemed the Force had other plans.

Despite his relative ineptitude when it came to the finer aspects of Force manipulation and how quickly Lumis wrestled his rampaging emotions back under control, it seemed Aestus noticed his brief slip. The other Sith broke off mid-sentence, glancing up from the book he’d buried his nose in to give his companion a curious once-over. His eyes trailed from Lumis to the source of his attention, a bemused grin quirking his lips when his gaze landed on Skywalker.

“Should I have mentioned that we would have company?” Aestus asked, snapping the book in his hands closed with more force than necessary and drawing a wince from Lumis at the artifact’s rough treatment. Priceless treasures of their history, real books bound in leather, and Aestus treated them as though they were datapads picked up on the cheap. Sidious would have him skinned alive if he knew.

“I didn’t realize you kept… pets,” Lumis carefully replied, matching Aestus pace for pace as the alpha approached Skywalker. Upon closer inspection, there was a durasteel collar wrapped around the boy’s throat, its D-ring connected to a heavy chain that bound him to the bedpost. While Skywalker appeared surprised by the approach of the twin Sith, his force presence all but flaring with it, there was no particular sense of fear. Just that same, dull passivity and a hint of resignation that kept him in his small nest even when the two men knelt beside it, observing him as though he were a particularly fascinating animal.

“Just the one,” Aestus hummed, reaching out and tucking a finger under Skywalker’s chin, using the small gesture to pull the boy into a sitting position and reveal more of his body. “A special case, on account of his relation to Master Jinn.”

The blankets remained pooled around Skywalker’s hips, protecting his more vulnerable areas from curious eyes, but the revelation of more skin proved to Lumis that his life as Aestus’ charge had not been an easy one. There were more scars on his body than there should have been for a Padawan at such a young age, and he was barely more than skin and bones in concerns to his physical fitness. He couldn’t fight off anyone in that moment, likely kept alive on the bare minimum for the sake of convenience. Then, of course, there was his mind.

The Skywalker of Lumis’ time had a mind like a durasteel vault, heavy shields forming an impenetrable barrier around him. He had studied with the finest tutors, learned to protect himself until even Lumis, with all his skill, became unable to intrude upon his thoughts. But this Skywalker was soft and malleable, what little shielding he’d managed to maintain under the force of Aestus’ oppressive presence riddled with cracks and crevices that were practically begging for Lumis to exploit them.

Still, a bitter part of him couldn’t help but think, this life was far more than Skywalker deserved. The boy should have been killed, for all the pain he’d caused them both. He was everything Master Jinn never knew he wanted--young and powerful and malleable in a way Obi-Wan would never have been. Raising the so-called Chosen One would have been his lasting legacy, and Qui-Gon Jinn was nothing if not a vain man. Lumis supposed he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was at how quickly the little bitch had ousted him from his position as Qui-Gon Jinn’s Padawan. A small part of him was envious that Aestus never experienced that pain.

“Would you like to fuck him?”

The question arose out of the blue, snapping Lumis’ gaze up from the band around Skywalker’s throat to the alpha that kneeled beside him. He must confess, of all the things he had ever considered doing to the young Anakin Skywalker, that had not been among them. There simply hadn’t been any way to get close enough, let alone to get through the boy’s iron shields to make him want. And while he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Aestus used Skywalker for such a purpose--there were very few other reasons one kept the prized pet of their nemesis chained to their bedside, after all--it still caught him off guard. When he turned to look at the other man, his twin was watching him expectantly.

Lumis offered him a tight smile. “I hadn’t pegged you as the type to share,” he said in lieu of an answer, still turning the idea around in his mind. Once he’d had a moment to dwell on it, the idea of fucking Skywalker was not… wholly unpleasant. He had dominated many Jedi in such a manner since his fall to the Dark, and really, the opportunity to take his revenge on the boy in a way he never could before was too good to resist.

Aestus chuckled, appearing genuinely embarrassed by the observation. “Perhaps not with someone else,” he confessed, scrubbing a hand anxiously over his beard, “but, well... you and Skywalker seem to have a history, and I always found the action quite cathartic. And since you and I are at our core the same person, is it really sharing?”

It was roundabout thinking, but Lumis supposed he should simply accept and not consider the logic too closely. “How could I turn down such a generous offer?”

Aestus gave him a wry grin, pressing his thumb to the bioprint scanner inbedded in Skywalker’s collar. The small device pinged its confirmation, dropping free from around the boys throat, and Skywalker whined as he was dragged from his nest by his hair. Lumis’ prior speculation was correct: he was completely bared even below the waist, goosebumps quickly rising on his skin now that he was completely free from the warmth of his blankets.

He took his time stripping off his outermost layers, watching Aestus as he drove the boy backwards onto the bed. He didn’t bother to undress completely--Skywalker wasn’t worth that effort--but removed anything that may impede his mobility. Skywalker squirmed, a weak protest at the rough treatment, but that too was quickly ended when Aestus struck the boy across the face and hissed a warning for him to, “Be still.”

Skywalker turned his face away and swallowed dryly, biting back whatever sharp retort lay on the tip of his tongue, but rolled obediently onto his stomach and kept his wrists crossed behind his back when Aestus placed them there. Lumis could feel Skywalker watching warily from the corner of his eye, his Force-presence prodding clumsily at Lumis’ shielding in attempt to gauge his intention. It was little use, of course. Some of the Order’s best minds couldn’t encroach upon his thoughts; a half-trained Padawan wouldn’t stand even the slightest chance.

Lumis offered the boy a sharp smile as he approached the bed, noting the way Skywalker shook with anxiety. It radiated in the Force through his weak shields, a siren-song, even as the boy attempted to remain still. It took only a brush against his mind to pick up on his thoughts. Submission, Skywalker thought, would save him from the worst of harm. That may be the way it was with Aestus: the alpha taking what he wanted and finishing with him quickly if Skywalker didn’t protest. Lumis almost laughed as he climbed atop the bed.

He and Aestus may have been born of the same person, but they were very different beings in that respect.

Skywalker refused to look at him even as Lumis pulled the boy up onto his knees, palming at the fabric of his own pants and the erection that slowly hardened within as he did so. While he may have never found Skywalker’s more feminine beauty particularly compelling in his own time, the thought of dominating the boy seemed to be getting the job done. By the time he had Skywalker situated to his liking, ass presented in the air almost begging to be taken, he’d gown fully hard. The boy glared at him with an attitude Lumis decided he would quite enjoy knocking out of the little slut as he freed his swollen cock from its confines.

“Look at you...” Lumis said, breathless, almost reverent, barely a whisper as he ghosted his fingers over the raw scars on Skywalker’s back, tracing the mark of the Sith carved there. His hand trembled with tension deep in the muscles of his shoulders and chest, his voice tight with strain as he felt his control slipping away from him. He could feel the Dark Side thrashing, angry and lustful and snarling for control. It yanked at the tight chains around it, and the Sith Lord’s grip was rapidly slipping. He could feel the sharp claws of darkness sink deep within him, making him bleed as it assumed control, filling him with rage and hate and pleasure greater than he had known in such a long time. His hand wound in Skywalker’s hair, fingers digging deep into the boy’s hip as he lined himself up, teasing the boy’s entrance with shallow thrusts, and when Anakin whimpered, so soft, so sweet, the last of his control shattered and Lumis roughly shoved within him. The Sith groaned in satisfaction at the sharp cry of pain that fell from Skywalker’s lips, felt his thirst for blood grow when he shuddered his reluctant submission, and Lumis brutally entered his mind as he began thrusting sharp and deep within him.

“Is this all you’re good for, Anakin?” Lumis whispered in the boy’s ear as he lay over his back, pressing Skywalker’s chest firmly against the mattress to keep him from moving, to make it harder for him to breathe, to whimper, to sob if he needed. “Just a stupid, useless slut at the end of your better’s cock.” He scoffed bitterly and drew up with a sharp thrust of his hips that made the boy cry out in pain, and Lumis couldn’t help a vicious sneer of pure hatred and disgust mar his face as he looked at those infuriating golden curls, those wide blue eyes, the full lips, the fine facial structure, and for all the boy’s beauty, Lumis could only find him hating him even more. “And Qui-Gon said you were better than me, more talented in every way. If only he knew what a pitiful wretch he was replacing me with, he would have had the sense to leave you in that hell where you belong. Just a slave, always a slave, and nothing more...”

Skywalker shrieked in pain when the hand on his hip shuddered and tightened with a crushing grip, bright red marks quickly blossoming under the fingers into wide, dark pooling bruises as the man above him snarled in fury, so different from the deep, possessive growl of the alpha that owned him and so, so much more dangerous. He tried to crawl away, tried to buck the Sith Lord off, but found his head pulled roughly back by the tight, commanding hand, and he looked back at the man that was brutally claiming him and watched in abject terror as golden, glowing eyes were swiftly stained bloody red, and through the haze in his mind, felt those piercing eyes through the rush of horror he felt as every nightmare he ever had was dragged from the depths of his mind to play out as if they were happening before him.

“I could have been something!” Lumis snarled in fury as he drove deep inside the terrified boy, and through all the rage and hate he felt for the disgusting creature beneath him, he could feel his mounting pleasure rapidly build as fear and pain and panic caused Skywalker to struggle weakly against him, as he watched hopelessness and despair shatter the crystal blue light in his eyes like fragile glass, as tears slipped down the flushed cheeks and stained the pillow beneath his head, just as a young Obi-Wan once so pitifully sobbed from the pain of being cast aside by the Master he loved for this broken, useless boy.  
  
“I could have been a Jedi, a father, an Emperor if not for you!” Lumis spat, his thrusts slowing, but driving deeper, harder, more vicious and more cruel as he ravaged the boy’s mind, tearing it apart with sharpened claws of the Dark Side as though it were little more than wet paper. “You stupid, worthless slave, what right do you have to take anything from me?!” Long, strong fingers wrapped around Anakin’s throat and swiftly closed tight, and the boy coughed and wheezed as he struggled for air that simply would not flow, and a heavy weight pressed down against him as inexplicably cold breath ghosted against his ear.

“The Force is wrong because of you, Anakin Skywalker,” Lumis said, his voice a cold, flat monotone, a violent switch from the heat of blazing hatred only a moment earlier. “Only a slave, wrongly elevated far above his station. I have spent so long trying to right the mistake of your birth.” His hand tightened further, and Lumis shivered with a cold rush of pleasure as Skywalker’s chest spasmed for air, as his eyes rolled back in his head, as fear and horror kept him wound tight and shaking like the frightened prey he had always been. A rough scab on Skywalker’s throat scratched at the skin of his thumb, and the Sith took pleasure in digging into the still-healing wound. In tearing the delicate skin open once more and feeling the hot blood that dripped free. “I should kill you. End your miserable life to correct the mistakes of Qui-Gon Jinn, and I am going to _love_ watching you die...”

“That’s enough!” An unexpected voice snapped, accompanied by a wash of raw, dark power that very nearly pried his grip on Skywalker’s mind loose from the sheer pressure. Lumis could not tell where it originated from, seeming to come from both beyond and within Skywalker’s mind all at once, but there was no doubt that it was a threat.

Lumis snarled, enraged when whoever this intruder was grabbed hold of the back of his tunic, clearly intending to yank him off Skywalker. Surely no one could be so stupid as to interfere with his ultimate revenge—with destroying the boy that had ruined his life. He lashed out blindly, sending the other darksider crashing backwards. It was easy to push past the man’s weak mental shields, to set his blood boiling in his veins, and he glanced over his shoulder to watch his enemy burn—

But the face he saw was not that of an enemy; it was not Qui-Gon Jinn or some other Jedi cur come to save their precious Chosen One. The face of the man writhing on the floor was a mirror of Lumis’ own. When he looked away from his strange twin, back down at the boy beneath him, the Skywalker before him was not his own. This one was younger, thinner, weaker. Scarred and broken by another’s hand before he even reached adulthood.

The crash. Aestus. His offer. It all came rushing back and Lumis couldn’t contain a ragged gasp as he realized what he’d done. His grip on Aestus released, leaving the man panting for breath on the floor, and Skywalker whimpered when Lumis pulled out of him, all but throwing himself off the boy in order to put some distance between them.

He didn’t get any further than the mattress at Skywalker’s side, but he was too weak to move any further. The shame and embarrassment of what he’d almost done was nearly enough to undo him, and he had to fight to keep every breath even and not spiral down into the mess of his own self-loathing. On the floor, Aestus struggled to get his hands under him, trying to move from where he’d fallen sprawled out on the floor. Lumis should have probably told him to rest a moment, to give himself time to recover, but couldn’t find the words. He had become preoccupied with the quite literal blood on his hands, which stained them red and dripped freely down Skywalker’s bruised throat when he managed to look at the boy once again. He had not intended for this to happen when he accepted Aestus’ offer.

Lumis’ attention was drawn back to his twin when the man finally managed to push himself to his hands and knees.

Despite the fact that his whole body was sore, his blood only just beginning to settle in his veins, Aestus was helpless to stop the delighted, barking laughter that bubbled up in his chest. His nostrils flared as his lungs heaved for breath, and for the first time since their encounter in the woods, he could scent something more off Lumis than just his subtle, beta markers. There was lust and rage and even the slightest hints of shame as his twin sat, panting for breath, beside Skywalker’s trembling form. His shields were strained with the effort of bringing his raging emotions back under control, even to Aestus’ relatively untrained senses.

“Would you look at that,” Aestus purred between gasping breaths, “there’s a person beneath that shell after all!”

A soft flush rose to the other sith's cheeks for only a moment before the man got a hold of himself, but his embarrassment permeated the air, leaking through shields obviously weakened by the events that just occurred. The scents were familiar, comforting; a reminder that they were, however different their lives had been, the same person at their core. It was easy for Aestus to forget, with the way his counterpart controlled himself in comparison to the wild and spirited alpha.

"My... sincerest apologies..." Lumis muttered, glancing down at the omega that trembled on the mattress at his side, keening pitifully. His hair was matted with sweat, eyes wide with the pain and fear lingering from Lumis' mental and physical assault. Blood stained the sheets around his neck from the open wound. "I did not expect to get so carried away."

Aestus waved a hand dismissively through the air before he pushed himself to his feet with a groan. "It happens to the best of us; I had a difficult time controlling myself when I first obtained him, as well."

He approached the bed and climbed atop it on Anakin's other side. The omega flinched away when Aestus reached out, but a soothing pulse through their mating bond allowed him to calm the boy enough to drag him over and place his head in his lap. He liked the bitch afraid, but it wouldn't serve either of their interests to have him this frightened—to be broken beyond further use. The alpha's revenge was far from complete, and he needed Anakin alive for it to work.

Turning Skywalker’s head to the side, Aestus pressed gingerly at the bonding mark that Lumis had torn open. He had, as a whole, been content to allow his twin the vengeance he so desired. Even as he strangled the life from Aestus’ mate, he hadn’t felt particularly inclined to step in. Not until the violation of another touching the mark had washed over him, snapping him out of the haze he had fallen into while watching Skywalker suffer so beautifully. There was no way Lumis could have known the mark’s significance, having come from a world where such things did not exist, but that had not stopped the blind rage he’d fallen into when the other Sith tore the wound open. While he had been wounded in the process of forcing Lumis off Skywalker, his brash decision had ultimately been successful.

Aestus stroked his fingers through the Skywalker's hair and untangled thy boy’s messy curls, scratching at his scalp while he kept his eyes downcast to allow Lumis time to collect himself. The man's impeccable shielding had already been reinforced, but there was a sour taste in the air from his lingering shame. Clearly the slip in his perfect control had shaken him, and the addition of almost breaking a Skywalker that was not his own was certainly not helping. From the corner of his eye, he watched Lumis scrub the blood off his hands on the already soiled sheets before raking his fingers through his hair, neither taming nor further upsetting the mess it had become during intercourse. It was a familiar gesture—one that Aestus had made in frustration many times before.

As an alpha, companionship had never come easy. Other alphas were potential threats, and he found he was always on his toes around them in preparation for a fight that rarely ever came. Betas were close, but not quite close enough to be considered equals of any kind. While they did not hold the same threat as alphas, they could still attempt to unseat him. Omegas were things to be dominated—to be made to kneel before their superiors and serve their every whim. They were no more people than the relics scattered through the room were. There were a scarce few setients Aestus considered friends as an initiate, yes, but those were bonds forged before his presentation—before Jinn's rejection. Those once-pleasant memories had since been consumed by the gaping maws of the dark side, nothing more than shadows of a life no longer his own.

So it was strange to feel the sharp sting of remorse when he considered Lumis' agitation. It had been years since he'd felt the desire to aid another person; to want to lift their burdens. He’d thought compassion long-forgotten, but he felt it as Skywalker settled under his hand and Lumis breathed deeply to calm his racing pulse.

"Would you perhaps like to try again?" He found himself asking, the other sith's eyes flickering with surprise at the offer. "I could stay here. Perhaps that would make it easier to remain in the present."

"You would allow that?" Lumis asked, a brow raising skeptically. There were flecks of blood beneath his fingernails, and his tunic was soaked through with sweat. He wanted desperately to strip it off, but was unsure if would be considered toeing the boundaries.

Aestus shrugged, offering a coy smile. "Perhaps I've grown fond of you," he replied, and though Lumis could tell there was more to it than that, he did not dig into it. Instead, he took a moment to stare at Skywalker, who had only just settled. It would be a lie to say that he wouldn’t want to give it another shot—to chase his pleasure in the wet heat of the boy’s body without the threat of slipping from control once again. And, as Aestus appeared genuine in his offer, Lumis nodded.

A firm hand at the base of Anakin's neck held him still as Lumis climbed atop him once again. The omega whined, clearly fearing a repeat of their previous encounter, but didn't struggle after Aestus shushed him. Instead he buried his face in the alpha's lap and fisted his hands in the man’s shirt while the other sith situated himself and the boy's body to his liking.

Lumis slipped back into Skywalker's mind as he did the same to his body. If the boy's shields had been easy to breach before the mental assault upon him, they were nothing more than flimsiplast now in his terror. It was nothing to press past them, to sink dark tendrils into Skywalker's mind and begin his search for the source of the fear radiating from the boy's every pore. It was an open wound in the back of his mind, muted only slightly by Aestus' clumsy attempts to soothe through their own bond, and Skywalker was too untrained to offer any proper resistance when Lumis began to curl mental fingers around it.

There was a delicate process behind pulling the offending memory from Skywalker's mind without causing additional damage. Carefully cutting the strings that connected it, untangling the knot of emotion that came from it. Soothing the ache of forgetting with a more pleasant memory, one where their previous encounter hadn't ended in such mental violence. One where Lumis only used his body, and not his mind.

He could feel Skywalker's muscles unwinding beneath him as he made the boy forget. The omega was no stranger to physical pain, nor the torrent of slurs that had fallen from Lumis' lips as he fucked him; these were things regularly endured in his encounters with Aestus. They were simply a fact of his continued existence, and by the time Lumis had wiped the memory away, he was limp and pliant under the sith's hand. The whimpers that slipped from his plump lips were no longer fearful and pained, but pleasured as Lumis thrusted into him and began to claim his body once more.

It was easy to make the weak-minded want. To make their blood warm and their body ache with a need to serve until all they could think, all they could feel, was a consuming drive to seek pleasure. To seek it through him--to please him and be rewarded in turn with his approval. Lumis pressed that desire into Skywalker's mind, watched it sink in with the expected ease, but was surprised at the reaction that came afterward.

He had expected some feedback--there always was--but Lumis nearly found himself washed from the boy's mind in the aftermath. A tidal wave of lust and want and need far stronger than anything he had encountered before rose up and wiped every other thought from Skywalker's mind but the consuming ache of his body and an alien desire to be filled. To be taken and used with a desperation beyond even what Lumis had instilled upon his victims before.

At Skywalker's head, Aestus sat up straighter. The alpha's gaze flickered curiously between Skywalker and Lumis, nostrils flaring as he drank in scents and their secrets that his twin was not privy to. Whatever it was, Lumis watched the way his pupils blew--the way his lips curled into a pleasantly surprised grin.

“What did you do?” his not-quite twin asked, but there was more awe than accusation in his voice. “Did you just—?”

In truth, Lumis was not entirely sure. Whatever it was, though, had Skywalker whimpering and mewling, attempting to push back onto Lumis’ cock. Aestus’ hand fisted in his hair made that difficult, but it certainly didn’t stop the boy from trying. More than that, there was something viscous leaking from his hole around Lumis’ length, making each thrust into the boys willing body smoother. There was some before, of course, but nothing compared to what he felt now.

“Please,” Skywalker keened. “Please, Master, I need—”

An innocuous statement, in the grand scheme. Skywalker could need a great many things, but it seemed to mean more to Aestus than it meant to Lumis. It drew a harsh, barking laugh from the alpha, who leaned over to press his nose to the boy’s throat. When he sat back up, he was grinning with the force only a madman could achieve. “You did! You sent him into heat!”

“Heat?” Lumiss drawled, the word unfamiliar on his tongue in this context. “Like a dog?”

“What else are omega good for?” the alpha snarked in return, as though his answer had clarified everything.

It hadn’t.

Skywalker, meanwhile, continued to whine like… well, a bitch in heat, apparently. Lumis had stopped thrusting, his confusion breaking the pace, and the lack of anything pressing into the boy’s hole had only made him noisier and more demanding. Aestus sighed, staring down at the omega like he was a pet that had done something particularly amusing.

“Here,” he purred, sliding out from under Skywalker. “Why don’t you come here? He’s not going to shut up until someone sticks a knot in him, and his mouth works just as good as his ass.” There were more words Lumis didn’t understand in that sentence, but Aestus didn’t seem particularly inclined to explain anything, so Lumis pulled out of the boy and swapped places with the alpha.

Aestus hastily undressed as he knelt behind Skywalker, apparently unconcerned with his nudity in front of his companion, and Lumis had to pause in situating himself to stare. The alpha’s dick was the most notable physical difference between them he’d discovered so far, longer and thicker than Lumis’s own length. More than that, there was some form of extra tissue at the base, slightly swollen with blood flow. A knot, he realized, piecing it together from Aestus’ earlier commentary. Truly, the biology of this place was far stranger than his own galaxy.

The other sith hastily lined himself up with Skywalker’s entrance once he had rid himself of his clothing, roughly shoving into the boy without a second thought to how much thicker he was in comparison to Lumis’ girth. Judging by the man’s earlier apathy toward any preparation of Skywalker’s entrance and the memories Lumis had pulled from the boy’s mind, this wasn’t altogether unusual. Skywalker keened as he pressed in, panting for breath at the sensation of being filled as he so desperately needed.

Lumis took the opportunity to guide his own weeping cock to Skywalker’s parted lips. The boy looked up at him through long lashes, and there was none of the fear from earlier in his eyes. Without the memories of Lumis’ assault to haunt him and the false heat loosening his inhibitions, there was only hunger and submission to be found. While Lumis may not have smelled exactly like the boy’s alpha, their uncanny resemblance and close-enough scent was enough to have Skywalker leaning forward as much as he could with Aestus’ tight grip on his hips, lapping at the pre-cum that beaded on the head of Lumis cock.

Tangling his fingers in the boy’s hair, Lumis guided Skywalker down onto his cock, thrusting shallowly into the boy’s mouth at first in contrast to the rough pace Aestus has quickly fallen into. Skywalker was pliant under his hand, mouthing obediently at Lumis’ cock when he pulled it from the boy’s mouth and sucking as he pressed back in. He was hardly the most skilled person to ever pleasure Lumis, spit dripping down his chin and his teeth occasionally brushing the sith’s shaft, he didn’t struggle, even Lumis began to speed up his thrusts into the boy’s mouth. Even when he pulled Skywalker down far enough that he choked—even when he didn’t let him go, and tears welled in the corner of the boy’s eyes as he struggled for breath around Lumis’ girth.

“Good little slut,” the Sith smirked down at the boy before he turned his gaze up to Aestus. His twin’s eyes were screwed shut as he chased his own pleasure in the wet heat of Skywalker’s body, an unintelligible slur of insults and praises falling from the alpha’s parted lips. The base of the man’s cock had swollen further, providing resistance to every thrust. Lumis was helpless to stop his own curiosity, and Aestus briefly met the man’s eyes with his own when Lumis brushed against his shields in a gesture that was both question and demand.

There was only a moment’s pause between his request and the lowering of Aestus’ shields. The other sith all but invited him into his mind, allowing him access to his every thought and emotion as he drove into Skywalker’s willing body. The rush of sensation is just as primal as everything leaking from Skywalker’s weak shields: lust and pleasure and the satisfaction of possession--laying claim to Skywalker’s mind and body. He could feel Skywalker’s sheath clenching tight around the alpha’s cock as Aestus’ knot swelled and caught on the boy’s rim. It was an alien sensation, but the pleasure that arose from it was greater ecstacy even than the boy’s mouth around his cock, cheeks hollowed as he sucked and swallow it down.

Across from him, Aestus moaned, a few last, jerking thrusts of his hips driving him into Skywalker’s body before he collapsed over top of the boy’s back with the force of his own release. His pleasure rattled through the Force unchecked, crashing through their open bond with an intensity Lumis was not prepared for.

“Fuck,” Lumis hissed as it all became too much to bear, yanking Skywalker down on his cock as the wave of orgasm washed over him. He distantly heard the boy choking and gagging around him as he spilled down Skywalker’s throat, but the firm hand in his hair kept him there until Lumis had had his fill--until the pleasure became almost painful in his sensitivity.

He shoved the boy off him with a groan, shifting over until he could collapse onto the mattress at Skywalker and Aestus’ side. His twin did not appear to be going anywhere, still laying on the boy’s back, though he did coax Skywalker from his hands and knees to his belly to alleviate some of the awkwardness of the position.

“Too tired to move?” Lumis teased, and watched a flush rise to Aestus’ cheeks. “I would have thought your stamina better than that.”

“I’m afraid i’m a bit tied up, at the moment,” the alpha replied with a vague gesture to Skywalker’s ass. “It will be some time yet before the knot deflates.”

Lumis wrinkled his nose at the thought, lingering pleasure loosening his tongue. “That sounds… horribly inconvenient.”

Aestus only shrugged, grinding his hips against Skywalker’s and drawing pitched whines from the boy. “It has its benefits,” he said with bemusement.

Silence fell between them as each tried to organize thoughts scattered by pleasure. This was surely not how Lumis intended to spend his time in Aestus’ company, but he could not say he’d found this particular turn of events unpleasant. Around him, the Dark Side sang with their frenzied emotions and the power of the artifacts around them.

“It is curious,” Lumis murmured, panting for breath and he ran his fingers through sweat-slicked hair. His body is still tingled with the aftermath of orgasm, sated and pleasantly exhausted. “All of this, and still you choose to grovel at Sidious’ feet like the dogs you claim yourself above.”

Casting his eyes about the room, he took in the bookshelves crowded with tomes, each older and more worn than the last, filled with knowledge of magic and ritual that the Sidious of this time and place has written off as beneath him. Artifacts of varying shapes and sizes stacked on whatever flat surfaces they could fit upon, each collecting dust as they lay in disuse. Ancient ceremonial weapons hung from the walls like art, kept eternally sharp and all but calling through the Force to be allowed to spill blood once more. It was a magpie’s nest, filled not with baubles, but precious stones. The pathway to power, to victory, laid buried in the mess, but Aestus seemed content to let it remain there.

The alpha followed Lumis’ eyes as they flickered about, a bemused smile on his face at his twin’s confusion. There were less scars on his bared skin than what lies beneath Lumis’ black tunics. He had never known wounds like Lumis had—had never faced combat and come out the other side holding the broken pieces of himself together. He had never known the hope and betrayal and loss that haunted even Lumis’ waking hours. That had turned the heart inside him into an aching, open wound.

Aestus’ gaze dropped when Lumis’ attention returned to him, down to where he stroked fingers absently through Skywalker’s matted hair. “You think yourself stronger than him? Our Master, who has the Republic at large on a string? Who has the Jedi Order dancing to his tune?”

“Perhaps not now,” Lumis ceded, “but with this…” a grand, sweeping gesture indicates the room. The collection of Aestus’ wasted potential. “With this I could rule the galaxy.”

His response drew a sharp, startled laugh from his companion, Skywalker whining when it jostled the alpha and the knot still locked inside him. “Rule the galaxy?” Aestus asked between rueful chuckles. “Why in the hells would you want to do that?”

This, of all the things the alpha had said, was perhaps the most perplexing of them all. It is in the nature of Sith to seek power—to be strong enough to take what is desired. To see the galaxy at your feet and know that you alone can bend it to your will. That you alone control what is and was and will be.

“You have no ambitions? No desire to rule?”

“Force, no!” Aestus exclaimed. “There are days when I can barely hold myself together; what would I do with a whole galaxy? No, better to leave overthrowing the Republic as we know it to my Master, and to, well--” he gestured vaguely to the other Sith, “--people like you, I suppose. And while it is not my particular cup of tea, please know that I am very impressed with your ambition.”

Lumis rolled over onto his side to better look at his twin. To study the pale scars on his back and shoulders and the messy bun in his hair. “What do you want, then?” He asked, unable to keep the skepticism from his voice. “If not power, what do you seek?

A long silence followed his question. It hung in the air with a physical pressure. Lumis did not know the alpha to be one to consider his words, but his brows were furrowed with a familiar concentration. There was turmoil behind his thin shields, sorrow and grief and humiliation leaking through the cracks. They were emotions Lumis was no stranger to, and they held his counterpart in as just as firm a grasp.

“I want to be seen,” Aestus finally said, just when Lumis was beginning to think he would not answer. Quiet like a confession, broken and vulnerable. It was not the way of the Sith, but that broken, battered excuse of a heart inside his chest ached with empathy. “Not by the little people, or the Order, or my Master. Just him. I want him to know me, and see me. I want him to suffer the same pain, the same humiliation, that I did. I want him to think on everything I might have been, and see what I have become.”

Lumis hummed. “You’ve already stolen and broken his most prized student. What more do you intend to do to him?”

“The plan was to break Skywalker beyond repair; to return him to Jinn in pieces and watch him struggle and fail to put him back together again. It would have been… spectacular to witness his fall from greatness. The pain and grief consuming him until he was nothing but a shell of himself, the way I was when Sidious found me. And then… and then I would have killed him.”

“‘Would have been’? What’s stopping you from going through with it now?”

“This,” Aestus drawled, tracing the scar on Skywalker’s throat in the shape of their teeth. The one Lumis had torn open in his earlier enthusiasm. The one that had caused Aestus to try and attack him. “It’s a mating mark--a physical representation of the bond that ties him to me, and me to him in turn. With this, I could no more turn him back over to the Order than I could surrender myself. And, as you may have already guessed--” an awkward, embarrassed chortle, “--I’m not a particularly gifted strategist. I’m still figuring a way around this.”

Reaching out, Lumis brushed a lock of stray hair from Skywalker’s face and tucked it behind his ear. The omega had fallen asleep over the course of their conversation, his mind a pleasant haze of exhaustion and contentment. Apparently, taking them both had been enough to sate the false heat that Aestus was talking about.

He could not imagine a life like this--bound so intimately to Anakin Skywalker with no hope of separation. Anakin Skywalker, who ruined his life. Who replaced him and stole from him everything that should have been his. Even here, where Obi-Wan Kenobi was never the student of Qui-Gon Jinn, he had thrown an unparalleled wrench in things. Curious, he couldn’t help but think, the countless different ways one life could impact another.

But there was a benefit to all of this—a chance Aestus had that Lumis was never allowed. Qui-Gon Jinn still lived in this time and place. Maul was long dead by the alpha’s hand, Dooku no longer needed with Aestus serving at Sidious’ right hand. There was no war, no clones, no separatists. Qui-Gon Jinn would live for years yet without the interference of those factors, allowing Aestus time to plan his ultimate revenge once more.

But… perhaps it would not take years. With a more level mind behind the wheel, the time it would take to bring Qui-Gon Jinn to his knees could be cut down to mere days, if that. The thought soothed the jealousy that was eating away inside, and though he was reluctant to spend any more time in this foreign world than necessary, perhaps a short delay could be allowed. Just a few days, for the chance to fulfill a fantasy that had been long beyond his grasp.

“Would you be interested in a partner in that endeavour?” He asked, smirking at the surprise that crossed Aestus’ face.

“What happened to wanting to get home?” The alpha replied.

“For a chance to bring down the Master that deserted us both, I think I can make an exception.”


	3. Qui-Gon's Worst Day Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE check the updated tags! There is some convent covered in this chapter that may be uncomfortable to read.
> 
> Also, welcome and my most humble thanks to Icse, who dragged this chapter from the grave.

Lumis sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed as he reached out through the Force, his fingers tangled in the thick, brown hair of the woman at his feet, her dark eyes hazy and distant as she petted at the Sith Lord’s legs, pressed frantic kisses to the fine, soft, black fabric of his pants, the softest, most delightful whimpers of desperate need torn from her lips. There was little need to rake her mind for information. Lumis had gotten all he needed from her son’s weak, feeble mind. No, what the Sith Lord was looking for was that primal urge that lay within the people of this world, not deep and tamed like the people he was from, but raw and just beneath the surface. That trigger he had accidentally pressed within Aestus’ little pet. 

Heat. A hazy, lust-driven compulsion that dictated their actions, slaved them to their primal need almost better than he could. It was absolutely divine, and Lumis found it complimented and enhanced his own considerable skill in sending a being into the deepest throes of hazy, drunken lust and keeping them there, trapping them in their need. No, the people here slipped into it easily, and knowing where to press, what to push, exactly where to sink deep within them was essential to learning how to tame these uncivilized, barely sentient wretches. Slaves, all of them.

And Shmi Skywalker was the perfect test subject because she was omega. Just like her slave, slut son, which Lumis found nothing if not appropriate.

At a particularly needy whine and a gentle press to the crotch of his pants, Lumis allowed his eyes to drift open, stained deep red as they always were when he sat deep in the center of the Dark Side. His gaze drifted slowly over the woman kneeling between his legs, her thin, scarred body stripped bare in an attempt to entice him when her obvious need did not, her eyes downcast as she nuzzled the bulge of his hardening cock. A faint, interested smirk curled up his lips in a superior sneer when he saw the dusty floor beneath her slicked with the thick, viscous lubricant her body produced in excess of to ease the way for the frankly ridiculous, unseemly growth that the alpha creatures of this world possessed at the base of their cock. He could only feel grateful that he didn’t possess such an unsightly, fleshy mass on his own person, especially not when he could inspire the same lust with a simple press in the right spot.

When the woman’s desperation hit a new high as Lumis sunk deeper in her mind, the false heat he inspired driving her mad with wet, hot, unfulfilled ache, she thrust her fingers deep inside herself with a desperate whine, her other hand frantically clawing at his pants and moaning in relief when she successfully fished out his cock. She swiftly wrapped her lips around the tip, her tongue greedily swirling over the weeping head with a keening moan, and Lumis closed his eyes as he guided her further down the shaft and slipped back into the Force.

The purpose of being here wasn’t simply to watch a middle-aged woman shamelessly debase herself, nor was it to sate his curiosity about the strange biology of this world. Aestus would have been more than pleased to allow Lumis to inspire this false heat in his little pet until his heart was content, he was sure, but that wasn’t the point. No, this woman was a lure, an enticing link to Anakin Skywalker, the suddenly missing Padawan, and after a few quiet whispers, a few passed messages, a few rumors, he was certain that it was only a matter of time before he showed up looking for his precious, lost student. Sooner than he had anticipated, it seemed, and a cruel, satisfied smirk ghosted over his lips. He could feel him, distant, yes, slightly different, but unmistakably him, and Lumis felt himself filled with anticipation, yearning, hate and painful broken love. He could never forget. Neither time nor place, no matter how strange, no matter how different, could make him unrecognizable.

Qui-Gon Jinn was on the way.

“I wonder if I have time to use more than just your mouth...” Lumis drawled absently, his fingers raking through her hair and admiring the way her lips stretched around his girth and greedily sucked him, a beautiful sight, to be sure, though her slut son’s lips were redder and fuller and far more satisfying to be seen panting in need. “What do you think, my dear?” Lumis asked gently, his hard hand in her hair a stark contrast to his soft words as he pulled her head off his cock, the woman whining for the loss of what she so badly needed, her tongue extended to attempt to reach for it, but fell just short. “Think I have time to give you what you crave or fuck you in the ass?”

“Master...” Shmi keened, moaning loudly as she rocked hard on the fingers she was thrusting inside herself. “Master, please, please...”

“Or maybe...” he drawled, slipping his fingers in her mouth, which she hungrily swallowed, sucking on them desperately as if they could give her what she craved, her eyes hazy and mindless with heat and lust and the powerful hold of the Sith within her. “Maybe I won’t take you at all. Maybe I’ll just let your need grow and grow until the madness of it breaks you...” Lumis cast a disdainful sneer at the woman at his feet, submissive and beautiful in her debasement. “Stop touching yourself,” he firmly commanded, and with an almost pained whine, she withdrew her fingers, her entire arm shaking as she struggled against the screaming need of her body and the smooth, compelling voice in her mind. Releasing her hair, Lumis allowed her to return to the task of pleasing him with her mouth and throat, considerably more skilled in this endeavor than her son, presumably from a lifetime of being used for the pleasure of her betters, while the young Skywalker, he was given to understand, was still new to his chains.

With the warm, wet feel of the mouth around his cock enthusiastically bringing him closer to completion, Lumis leaned back, dipped back into the Force, and felt with mounting satisfaction and anticipation as Qui-Gon drew closer. When he felt the Jedi closing in, Lumis grabbed the back of the woman’s head, pulled her down on his cock, and with a deep, pleasured groan climaxed down her throat, the gagging contractions almost controlled in the way they greedily milked him long after he had nothing left to give. With a growl of irritation, he threw the woman off of him and stood, tucking himself back in his pants and straightening out his robes until he was back in his typical state of order. With a look of disgust at the puddle of slick on the ground, Lumis carefully stepped around it on his way to the small one room hovel’s only door.

“Stay here,” Lumis growled, pointing a finger at the whimpering woman, her hands fiddling before her in a struggle to follow the Sith’s earlier command to keep herself from chasing her own satisfaction. “Don’t you think of looking for relief, I want nothing in your useless, slutty holes unless I say it may enter you. Am I understood?”

“Y-yes, Master...” Shmi, whined, biting down on her lip and futilely rocking her hips against nothing at all as the painful need within her only grew. Satisfied in his work, Lumis left the small home and shut the door behind him, whistling as he locked it and leaned against the wall, his eyes closed as he listened to the beautiful litany of pained groans and needy moans of a woman broken to the craving need for pleasure and nothing else. All that was left to do was wait for Qui-Gon, so close, so close now, he could feel him, and he took the opportunity to steel himself, reinforce his defenses against the cold rush of emotions he felt deep within himself. He had been unprepared for Anakin. He would not be so for the Master that abandoned him

He didn’t need to wait for long.

Lumis saw him as he strode quickly down the broad avenue right toward him, the long stride of the tall man faltering as he drew closer, and the Jedi stopped, was still for a long moment, and through the Force, Lumis could feel him tense, reaching out in search of danger, for something, something that he couldn’t quite place. A few hesitant steps forward and Qui-Gon stopped again, this time not to sense what was around him, but to quickly draw himself back in. Lumis could feel the echo of his surprise, caught off guard when he brushed against the writhing, tangled mess of emotion Shmi Skywalker made within the Force. Her desperate need hung like a haze around them, and was clearly not what the Jedi Master expected to encounter. Jinn’s presence strained as he vied for control over the instinct that must now be whispering forbidden things in his ear. His defenses snapped hard and strong into place, just as Lumis expected of a Jedi Master, so very, very unlike the Knights he had encountered a few days before in the woods. This was not the flimsy control of some child barely out of the Trials, this was a man with experience and training and wisdom harvested from the years of his devotion to the Jedi Order.

And it wouldn’t be enough to save him.

“Woah there, easy now, friend,” Lumis drawled, his accent thick and heavy as he pushed off the wall to intersect the Jedi’s resumed trajectory to the door of the Skywalker hovel, and Qui-Gon Jinn flashed him a dangerous look, his eyes roving over him and examining him as though he hadn’t noticed him until that moment. A sneer of superior contempt curled the Jedi’s thin lips, and Lumis couldn’t help but grin in absolute delight. He had always been difficult to sense in the Force, but to not notice him at all was simply careless. No, this Qui-Gon was careless, arrogant in a way he hadn’t known his own old Master to be, his focus singular, but not on him. His senses were directed elsewhere, and despite the Jedi’s strengthened defenses, Lumis could already feel the cracks forming in his restraint. Lumis knew very well the cause when Jinn ceased to regard him, his eyes drawn unwillingly back to the door of the hovel.

Just as Aestus had said, Qui-Gon was alpha, and came with all the shackles and chains that accompanied such a weakness. He watched the man’s nostrils flare, his pupils widen, his shoulders stiffen with his struggle against his own instinct, and Lumis couldn’t help but wonder about the designation of the others in this world. The Kryze sisters, undisputably alpha. Scrappy Quinlan Vos, alpha for certain. Mace Windu...omega, Lumis thought with a grin. Absolutely and undisputably omega. He doubted Sidious had a designation. The Sith Master, he imagined, would have little patience for such a thing.

“Get out of my way,” Qui-Gon snarled when he attempted to step around the man in his way and Lumis simply moved to block him once again, the tall man peering down at him as though he were nothing. It made Lumis burn. He had always been nothing to Qui-Gon, always the inferior, always the lesser student, always less desirable than Anakin Skywalker...

“Mm, afraid I can’t do that, friend,” Lumis chirped brightly, a sly smirk on his face when the Jedi’s gaze snapped impatiently toward him, irritation billowing off the man at this nuisance when Lumis knew full well that a more alert, less haughty man would have sensed at least the hint of the wrath that burned within him. Instead, Qui-Gon’s senses were muted by his own impatience and the haze of Shmi Skywalker’s oppressive presence, her loud, desperate moans and whimpered begging easily audible through the flimsy door of her hovel and her strong scent leaking out into the street they stand upon.

“You can, and you will,” the Jedi growled, his hand crossing swiftly through the air, and Lumis felt that familiar press of the Force, that strong, commanding hand that compelled the lesser to obey, a trick he had initially learned from Qui-Gon himself, but this version of the man was much more careless with the skill, much harder, more forceful, enough that Lumis thought that his own Qui-Gon would be appalled with the strength of his command. This came from a place of arrogance, of superiority, of the Jedi’s belief that others were simply beneath him.

It was, in actuality, very Sith.

It wasn’t enough for Lumis to feel compelled, not nearly enough, but he could feel the Force close in around him, and he couldn’t help but shiver in almost perverse delight at the feel, at the anticipation only a predator could feel when they had their unsuspecting prey in their grasp. This Qui-Gon was darker, on edge, didn’t have that infuriating, burning light of immortality within him that his own Qui-Gon had possessed until the moment Dooku stupidly freed him from his mortal prison. The Master Jinn of this place may have believed he was at the top of the heap, but he stood now before an apex predator. No mere alpha could stand against such a thing.

When Lumis didn’t obey, Qui-Gon finally took full pause, forcing his eyes to focus on the man before him with baffled bewilderment. He was clearly not used to beings with the strength of will to resist his commands and nearly offended that this smirking man dare have the gall to remain standing as he was. But it made him cautious, forced him to draw back slightly even with the scent of heat hanging heavy in the air around them, and this time, Qui-Gon took a closer look. A sly, oily smile passed over Lumis’ face, his hands casually in his pockets as he drew up taller, a vain attempt to make himself appear anything other than small in comparison. This Qui-Gon was huge, even bigger than the Master Lumis was used to, which was saying something, as Qui-Gon Jinn had always dwarfed him.

“What brings you out here, friend?” Lumis asked casually when Qui-Gon made no further attempt to move past him. The Jedi scowled slightly, his eyes narrowed as he looked at this man that dared to get in his way and was, at the very least, of strong enough will to resist his influence.

“I need to speak to someone who lives here,” Jinn forced out between his teeth, his impatience to be moving on and his swiftly growing disdain for Lumis’ interference radiating clearly in the Force.

“Oh yeah?” Lumis drawled indifferently, examining his fingers and scraping stray grains of sand from underneath one of his otherwise immaculate nails. “Nobody in there but that omega slut. How do you know the bitch? You’re not one of the regulars.”

“It’s none of your business, scum,” the Jedi snapped, and Lumis quickly put his hands up in mocking surrender to calm Qui-Gon’s quick temper.

“Easy now, pal,” Lumis said cautiously, the smirk never leaving his face as he grabbed hold of Qui-Gon’s anger with the Force and used it to slide the shadowed hands of his influence unseen beside his defenses as they rapidly cracked under the pressure of stress and anger and impatience--under the strain of the omega’s heat and the desperate, keening moans as she begged to be filled. “This is my slave, understand? I’ve got a right to know who the little whore’s been dealing with.”

“Your slave?” Qui-Gon muttered, drawing back slightly with a snarl twisting the edge of his lips. He reluctantly took a step back, head cocking as he examined Lumis anew. “When did this occur?”

“Nearly a month ago, by my estimation,” Lumis replied with a shrug. “Won her in a bet off some fool Toydarian.” The Sith Lord laughed harshly, the smirk on his face becoming wicked and cruel. “He should have just given me the shop and kept the slave! He’d be making more money off the slut’s holes than he does peddling his garbage!”

“And that’s what you use her for?” Jinn asked, though there is less judgement in his voice than Lumis expected there to be. The Jedi Order was outspoken in their condemnation of slavery, but Jinn didn’t seem particularly concerned with the matter. Then again, he had quite happily left Shmi Skywalker to rot in her chains when he first took her son from this wretched dust bowl. “Selling her off to whoever will pay?”

“When I’m not using her myself...” Lumis drawled. “What else do you do with an omega slave? They’ve no use at all beyond taking cocks and knots.” It was faint, the swift flash of something raw and primal that would have been passed by a less observant man, but Lumis saw it. Qui-Gon agreed. 

A small part of him liked this version of the man he hated. At the very least, this was a vast improvement to his own stalwart, immortal Jedi Master. This Qui-Gon had spirit and a mind of his own; he did not blindly follow the supposed Will of the Force, as Lumis’ own continued to do even from beyond the grave. Lumis thrust his thumb at the door behind him. “Would you like a go? It’s her first heat since I’ve had her, and I lack the parts to satisfy the knot-hungry slut. I’ll even let you have her for cheap, so long as you shut her up. She’s been yowling like a loth-cat for hours, and I’m losing patience with it.”

“I...need to speak with her about her son,” Qui-Gon ground out slowly, his voice straining with the tension of resistance and his dark eyes slowly drifting to the door where the enticing sounds of the omega’s unfilled need drifted through the cracks and gaps in the wood. Lumis scoffed slightly and crossed his arms over his chest and gave the Jedi a disapproving stare as he delightedly pressed harder against the Jedi’s growing fractures in his defenses. “I’ve been given to understand that the boy has been seen around here.”

“You’re into that sort of thing, hmm?” Lumis said flatly. “I can assure you, her ass is just as good as any of those preening male omega bitches. She’s...a bit used, perhaps, not so tight as she once was, but you’re a big man...I doubt you’d fit inside one of the tighter things they’ve got down at the whorehouses,” the Sith drawled, leaning in as he leered at the Jedi, his eyes drifting to the growing bulge in the Jedi’s pants, even as his deep, heavy breathing accompanied his attempts to calm himself. It was working, but only to slow his arousal, not stop it. It wasn’t enough. Allowing the flash of recognition to reach his wide, golden eyes, he looked up at the Jedi almost awed and allowed a slow smile to cross his lips. “Hey...I know you!”

“Do you...” Qui-Gon scoffed dismissively, but he drew up all the same, his chest expanding as he visibly preened. “I’ve no recollection of ever meeting you. Not that I would recall, you are by far the blandest beta ever to grace the galaxy. Practically invisible.”

“Unlike you!’ Lumis said, breathing faster in his excitement and allowing his heart to beat faster with anticipation. Arrogance, it seemed, would be what brought this fool low, not simple animal need like he expected. Qui-Gon was, after all, a great deal more controlled than reckless, impulsive Aestus. “Everyone knows you! Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master!” Lumis grinned broadly and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’ve never met a Jedi before! Haar'chak, you’re more magnificent than they say!”

“And we have...met?” Qui-Gon asked cautiously, his brow furrowed as he reexamined this strange, nearly scentless man once again, closer than before in the hopes of jogging some memory of him, but he came up with nothing. The grinning beta didn’t seem to mind.

“Not personally, no, but word on the streets is that you made quite a scene around these parts some years ago,” Lumis cheerfully babbled, the aching, wanting woman in the home behind him brushed to the side for the moment, though the Sith took note of how the Jedi’s eyes kept drifting toward the door before snapping his attention back to the excitable Sith. The Jedi alpha couldn’t forget, and the divided attention was straining his defenses that were already under far too much pressure. “You talk like you know my slave,” Lumis said with a slight frown when Qui-Gon once again looked over to the nearby door and the origin of the infernal heat scent. “Is that how you know her? From before when you last were here?”

“We met, yes,” Qui-Gon said, harsher than he had intended. “I wouldn’t say I know her, but we have had some interaction.”

“Shit, I knew it!” Lumis said excitedly, looking at the Skywalker home and grinning like a madman. “I’ll be damned, if I knew my slave was a slut for Jedi, I would have taken her to Coruscant long ago! If she’s appealing to Jedi, I bet I would have been living like a king!”

“Listen, she has a son,” Qui-Gon said slowly as if it would help the excitable flesh peddler understand. “Anakin Skywalker, he’s a Jedi Padawan, he’s gone missing. I heard he may have been seen around here.”

“Oh, yeah, right, right...” Lumis said, nodding sagely. “Yeah, I heard about that. Some of Jabba’s thugs were asking around ‘bout the kid earlier, something about returning him to the Jedi for some ridiculous sum.” The star struck, loopy grin returned to his face. “Stars, Qui-Gon Kriffing Jinn! I just can’t believe it!” His eyes drifted to the lightsaber at his him before he once again met the Jedi’s eyes, dark with lust, but hard with tight control. “You’re a hero, you know that?! I was in Sundari when you liberated Mandalore from that traitor, Tor Vizsla!”

“You’re...Mandalorian?” the Jedi asked slowly, his chest swelling with pride at the other man’s awed expression.

“I am,” Lumis said with a swift nod. “I supported the Duchess’ claim to the throne, but my clan did not, and I was exiled all the same.” He sighed heavily, almost wistful as his shoulders slumped. He brightened almost immediately, as if the damper in his mood had been accidental. “But to watch you!” He held his hands before him, an invisible weapon in his grasp as he moved his arms with trained precision and imitating the slicing thrum of a lightsaber with the humming in his throat. “Swinging that green blade around like some god hero to save us! I have never forgotten it!”

The Jedi visibly preened, his head held high, superior as his ego was shamelessly stroked, the scents in the air driving him slowly wild and enhancing his need to display his dominance, and he happily did so, even if it was only for this cooing beta. “It was no easy thing, I can assure you,” Qui-Gon practically purred. “Your people were quite keen on slaying Satine, and the Force knows the young thing was in desperate need of protection...”

“I’ll bet she was...” Satine. Lumis caught himself before he winced, before pain and wrath flashed across his face and stained his golden eyes red with the power of the Dark Side. Hearing her name still hurt, and hearing it spoken by him felt like a defilement. “The Duchess was always...soft. And so, so beautiful...”

“You have no idea...” Qui-Gon drawled, a cocky smirk curling his lips that made Lumis’ hair stand on end. “The poor dear presented as omega during my time as her guardian.” He chuckled deeply, breathing deep and allowing the scent in the air to wash over him, his blood warming with the beginning of the rut that he was suddenly less inclined to resist as he sunk into the memory of the gentle, mewling royal. “Satine was a small thing, but she took my knot all the same.”

“...you?” Lumis squeaked, his voice thin as a cruel, forced smile sat unmoving on his face as new hatred burned deep within him. He didn’t think it was possible to hate Qui-Gon Jinn more than he already did, and yet there it was, the old Master far surpassing the hatred he felt for Anakin Skywalker. “You...fucked our Mand’alor?”

“And she begged me to fill her,” Qui-Gon drawled, his entire being exuding arrogance and pride for his conquest, and it took everything inside Lumis not to close his fist tight around the Jedi’s mind the moment he felt his defenses slide down. “Again and again, long after her heat was over, but I suppose that’s what omegas are for, yes?” He shrugged almost indifferently, as though it was nothing at all. “But, I suppose that’s what happens when those poor omegas have nobody to teach them, and Satine had no idea what was happening. But I taught her well,” Qui-Gon preened, “and she was such a fast learner...”

“I-I’ll bet she was...” Lumis said through the sudden dryness in his throat, swallowing hard to push down the swiftly rising wrath within him. “Is this one of the benefits of being a Jedi? Royalty just...spreads their legs for you?”

Qui-Gon scoffed in dismissal. “For me, in any case. She asked me to stay, of course,” he added, almost an afterthought. “I wouldn’t, naturally. No omega is more important than my work.” Lumis clenched his jaw tight to keep the desperate, jealous whimper from escaping his throat. If she had only asked him to leave, all of this, all of it could have been avoided. But she was too proud, and he was too weak to leave the Jedi. But this Satine...

This Satine had been broken, used, maybe made to love the Jedi Master and was able to swallow her pride long enough to ask her vile lover to stay. He didn’t quite understand how it worked, but Lumis couldn’t help but wonder if this world’s Satine bore Qui-Gon’s child, or had her neck bit with the bonding mark that Aestus so coveted, though he couldn’t imagine that this Qui-Gon Jinn would care either way.

“Damn...” Lumis whispered, managing a tight whistle of approval. “Many of us on Mandalore grew up dreaming about bedding the Duchess, she was always so very lovely. If only I were a Jedi...” Lumis said with a bitter, sardonic smirk. “Maybe I’d have had the chance to have her.”

“Don’t be absurd, you’re beta, you never would have satisfied her,” Qui-Gon swiftly, cruelly dismissed with a casual flick of his wrist. “The little slut needs a knot. You couldn’t satisfy her any more than you can satisfy that mewling whore you keep,” Qui-Gon said, gesturing to the home behind him, and Lumis turned to stare at it, but heard nothing except the rush of blood in his ears, saw nothing but the vile, treasured memories of his first time with his Satine when they were both so young, now tainted by the thought of Qui-Gon Jinn carelessly, roughly thrusting into her as she moaned in need. He could feel her, even now, laying warm and soft beside him in their bed on Mustafar, her screams as Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon bred her like an animal, her body cold and lifeless in his embrace when he failed to save her...

“How right you are!” Lumis said, his voice high and tight as a nearly manic laugh peeled out from between his clenched teeth. “Tell you what! For the hero of Mandalore, I’ll let you have my slut for free. As a tribute to your excellence! Please, it will be my absolute honor, and believe me, you’d be doing me quite a favor...” Lumis could feel darkness and lust pooling deep in the Jedi’s gut, his mind a foggy haze of the memories of his old, sweet conquest and the blazing heat scent of an omega that was far too close to be resisted. Qui-Gon started to move toward the door, but swiftly stopped, his muscles trembling and contracting with the last vestiges of his control, grasping for his mission before it fell out of mind completely.

“I-I...” Qui-Gon started, his breath catching in his throat at the new, desperate, wanton moans behind the door, Lumis’ fingers pressed firmly against the wall of the hovel as he subtly influenced her, inspiring her current plummet into further madness. The Jedi closed his eyes, his teeth grit in focus and shook his head. “No. No, I need to speak with her about the boy. Just speak.”

“Very well...” Lumis said with a sigh before he fixed a sly, predatory look at the struggling Jedi. “I suppose information is just as valuable as the useless slut. Consider that my gift to you, and perhaps, when you have what you need, you will consider doing me the favor of silencing the bitch so I can get some kriffing sleep.”

A deep, pleasured growl reverberated in the Jedi’s chest, dominating and amused at the awestruck and non-threatening beta. Qui-Gon curtly nodded, and muttered an aloof, “We shall see,” and with a pleased grin, Lumis turned, unlocked the door, and opened it for the Jedi Master.

The moment Qui-Gon crossed the threshold, the thick, hot, overwhelmingly oppressive scent of wet heat slammed into the Jedi, and he found himself staggering back, his hand clutched tightly over his rapidly beating heart, his nostrils flaring as he breathed deep of the scent, it’s haze laying thick like mist over his mind until little else mattered. Despite his best attempts, Qui-Gon couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t look away from the omega on the ground, her flushed face pressed against the ground, her hips raised as she presented herself and thrust her dripping hole back in desperate search for contact. 

When Lumis entered the room, she arched her back to raise her hips up higher in the hopes of enticing the male to fill her like she needed. The Sith Lord was unaffected, but the Jedi was very quickly falling under the madness of rut, his already strained defenses crumbling under the heat’s onslaught.

Shmi keened desperately, her already soaking wet hole gushing with slick at the scent of the alpha’s rut, and she looked over her shoulder, her hips rolling with the whimpered, breathless begging of “Alpha, please...” falling from her lips.

“Not much in the mood for talking, it seems...” Lumis drawled, beaconing for the Jedi to come closer, and Qui-Gon wavered, glued to the spot, his breath heavy and his eyes black with need, though he still held on with the threads of his fragile resistance. “Come now, step inside...” the Sith said smoothly, the undercurrent of seduction enough to sever the last strings that held him back, and Qui-Gon wordlessly obeyed, too lost in the haze of rut to notice that the door closed behind him, the lock snapping closed with a wave of the beta’s hand.

With the door closed and the scent of the alpha, of satisfaction so close, it became too much for the dripping omega, and with a desperate whine, she scrambled on the ground toward the Jedi, a wanting moan torn from her as she felt the long, hard length through his pants, and the moment she touched him, something inside Qui-Gon snapped. With a deep, possessive snarl, he swiftly grabbed the woman’s chin as she mouthed at his cock, looked at her for a moment as he breathed deeply, allowing all his senses to be filled with her scent, and roughly shoved her to the ground, his hand pressed between her shoulder blades to hold her in place as he freed his cock, lined himself up with her rolling hips, and thrust his full length inside her, the woman crying out is pain and pleasure and grateful satisfaction as she was stretched wide around the alpha’s cock.

Lumis sat down on the small, hard bed, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting between his hands as he watched the savage, animal rutting on the ground before him, the woman lost in the feeling of being filled so deep, the Jedi hunched over her much smaller frame and grunting in effort, his hips moving at a punishing pace. Looking at them, the Sith Lord couldn’t help but wonder if these feral, pitiful excuses for sentient beings could even appreciate the pleasure of it, or if they were simply driven by instinctual need. He had been inside Aestus’ mind, had felt the wash of divine pleasure rush through him, though he knew well that his perception of the sensation may have been very different from his more animal twin. Aestus may very well have been so caught up in the rut that his primitive mind couldn’t even register the ecstacy of it all.

All the while, as he watched the Jedi roughly thrust inside the moaning, begging slave, Lumis could feel the wrath within him boil the blood in his veins, could feel flames lick at the edge of his vision and deep within his mind as madness slowly consumed him. After all this pain, after all this suffering, after all his losses, he had thought there was nothing within him left to burn, but somehow, Qui-Gon Jinn had managed to tear his wounded heart open anew, managing even to taint and corrupt the deepest, most private pieces of his shattered soul where the last threads of light within him were carefully tended and held close. As he watched them, all he could see was his Satine, young and thin and so beautiful, only just barely a woman as she moaned and cried for Qui-Gon Jinn, begged the Jedi to fill her, yearned to feel the girth of that ridiculous knot spread her as he came deep inside her. He could feel his control slipping quickly, yielding to the soft, seductive whispers of insanity as the Dark Side slowly took hold.

Aestus was going to be so pleased.

It didn’t take long before the brutal pace and the intensity of the rut sent Qui-Gon thrusting hard inside the woman as she screamed in pleasure, the thick knot sinking deep inside her and locking in place as the Jedi climaxed with a long groan, his hair curtaining around his face as he hunched over her back, his hips jerking unevenly as he pulled the rolling hip back against him, pressing as deeply inside her as he was able. Shmi moaned loudly in satisfaction, her body sagging in relaxation as she finally felt the relief of the knot, of the long, thick cock buried deep inside her, of the pulsing of his orgasm as he filled her with a steady stream of the cum her body craved. Above her, the Jedi panted as his breath began to slow, the wash of euphoria slowing his heart, the heavy haze of the rut fading quickly as his knot swelled and tied him to the submissive, pliant omega.

“I wonder...” a crisp, chilling voice said, his accent so much sharper than it had been before, almost aristocratic, and Qui-Gon’s gaze shot up to meet the other man’s eyes, sudden fear gripping the very heart of him when he saw them glowing in blazing gold and bloody red. “What do you think Anakin Skywalker would say if he could see you now?”

Qui-Gon instinctively pulled back, motivated into action and hissing sharply in pain when his knot caught on the edge of the groaning omega’s hole. He was stuck, and would be for some time. Panic gripped him as he swiftly raised his defenses, his eye focused intently on the man before him as his shields slammed into place and a wide, malicious grin spread across the stranger’s face. Qui-Gon reached for his lightsaber, his fingers only just brushing the smooth cylinder before it flew from his belt into his host’s hand, and the Jedi grabbed the Force in retaliation with the intention of slamming the creature through the nearest wall. But the moment he touched the Force, it felt cold, and he could feel shards of sharp, cutting ice creeping up his fingers, his arms, sinking into his blood and slicing through arteries and veins to reach bundled nerves that fired agony through the Jedi at the touch of the snapping freeze.

And still, Qui-Gon’s eyes never left the dangerous man, his defenses clamped tight around him to resist the crushing pressure around him. He knew a Dark Sider when he saw one, had faced them before, though a voice deep within him, soft and smooth and afraid, whispered that this man was like nothing he had ever faced. This man, contrary to the beliefs of the Jedi High Council, was Sith. The moment he thought so, he knew it to be true, and Qui-Gon quietly cursed himself for not noticing that something was amiss, for not sensing the danger so close to him, and he wondered why he had been unable to sense this in him before. He hadn’t even been able to detect the slightest trace of Force sensitivity in the man, so...what happened? Had his arrogance blinded him? Or was this young Sith simply accustomed to hiding?

Qui-Gon hoped desperately that he only had himself to blame. The alternative was a much, much more frightening prospect. If one could make himself nearly invisible in the Force, there could be others.

There had to be others.

“Just think how disappointed he’d be if he could see you knotted inside his mother...” Lumis mockingly cooed. “And while you were supposed to be looking for him!” The Sith’s face grew darker, his eyes seeming to glow with an even greater intensity. “I wonder if you would have fucked him too, given half the chance. Would you, Qui-Gon?” he asked with a tight, cruel smile on his face, his rapidly slipping control plainly seen in the wildness of his eyes. “Would you have smelled that sweet, enticing scent of your Padawan bitch in heat and been unable to resist?” He snarled viciously, his hand tightening around the saber in his hand, the saber that his own twin blades were modeled after. “Or was using poor, sweet Satine enough for you?!”

“What do you want from me?!” Qui-Gon growled through teeth clenched against the pain that raged through him, but the other man only laughed madly, his previous anger seemingly forgotten as a cruel smirk touched is lips.

“I suppose that indignity comes back to bite you now...” he said smoothly. “I know where your precious student is, Qui-Gon Jinn, and I have known the taste of that lovely slut.” Lumis grinned wickedly when the Jedi Master snarled in rage, his hands on Shmi’s hips as he tried to forcibly yank himself free, only to howl in frustrated anger when he failed entirely to dislodge himself, the omega beneath him whimpering in pain for the attempt and shaking as she too attempted to crawl away from the furious alpha.

“The moment I am free, I shall tear you apart!”

“Oh, I sincerely doubt that...” Lumis drawled lazily as he raised the lightsaber in the air with the Force, the Jedi trying in vain to reach for it, to call it to his grip, but the Force did not respond to his call. The Dark Side refused to answer the call of a Jedi when a Sith Lord was so near. Slowly, the weapon began to twist as it was disassembled, leaving a ring of components floating in orbit around a gently glowing green kyber crystal. Lumis reached out and gently held it in his grasp. “You are, of course, welcome to try it. Hundreds have before you, and none have yet to succeed.”

“Where is Anakin?!” Qui-Gon snapped, his hands tightening on the woman’s shoulders to hold her in place as he tried once again to pull out, a sharp yelp of pain torn from his throat when he yanked too hard on the throbbing knot. “Where are you keeping him, you monster?!”

“I wonder...” Lumis absently mused, his sharp eyes running over the woman before him, his head tilted slightly as he carefully examined the lust-hazy look on her face. “Do you think she enjoyed taking you half as much as her slut son enjoyed it when I fucked him?” Qui-Gon spat a long string of curses at him as he sat back, his long fingers digging into the omega’s hole in an attempt to pry her open wide enough to slip free. “Do you think she’s half as tight as sweet, virgin Anakin had been? How about after he had been well used, and I can assure you, he was. Do you think I managed to fuck him so ragged he became as loose and sloppy as his whore mother?”

“Stop it!” Qui-Gon shouted, less angry now that desperation set in as he realized he was well and truly stuck. “Why are you doing this?! What do you want from me?! What do you want from Anakin?!”

“Do you know what I like best about dear, sweet Anakin?” Lumis asked, the amusement gone and replaced with cold, hard malice, his hand tightening around the kyber crystal in his hand. “With just the slightest touch, I can send him into heat.” He laughed softly, almost manic when he felt the Force tremble with Qui-Gon’s shifting emotions, drifting slowly from rage and anger and into dread. “A false, heat, yes, but the effects are all the same. And I will tell you this, Qui-Gon, there is little in this world sweeter than watching that slut Padawan of yours debase himself on my cock, growing more and more desperate as I keep fucking him because my lack of your alpha weakness denies him the relief he seeks.” Lumis closed his eyes and moaned softly, his fingers threading through his hair and making a mess of the reddish-gold locks. “It doesn’t take long for that slut to lose himself, to become little more than a begging, mewling mess of need that can never be sated.”

Lumis pointed a long finger at Shmi, the look on his face contemptuous and disgusted. “Not unlike his whore mother. With any luck, Qui-Gon, you’ve impregnated the bitch. You’ll have a new student in no time at all, and I know how easy it is for you to replace them...”

“Who are you...” Qui-Gon whispered, his voice almost flat in his horror as he watched the Sith’s hand tighten, smothering the light of the green crystal, and with a powerful surge of the Dark Side, the Jedi watched as the darkness rushed toward the Sith, a sudden, violent wind kicking up from nowhere at all, and piercing, blood red light began to seep from between his fingers, the soft song of his crystal erupting into a sharp, piercing scream. When the Sith Lord uncurled his fingers, Qui-Gon’s kyber crystal floated in the air before him, glowing red with the corruption of the Dark Side.

“Who am I...” Lumis mindlessly repeated, watching absently as the bits and components formed around the newly bled crystal, snapping and twisting back into place, the lightsaber recreated just as it was before. Lumis reached out and delicately grabbed it, thumbing it on and watching with rapture at the soft glow of the red blade. A pained, manic laugh tore from his throat, and Qui-Gon held his breath when wounded, shattered eyes turned upon him, so strange and distantly familiar.

“Am I so easy to forget?” Lumis asked bitterly, and Qui-Gon looked at him in confusion as something about the cruel man before him suddenly broke, cracks and fissures forming in his ironclad defended and splitting them hopelessly apart, exposing the dark core within filled with dangerous power and flames and madness. Insanity shone bright as the flames inside him in those golden eyes, and Qui-Gon found himself truly afraid. 

“After everything we had been through, after everything I gave to you, after everything you stole from me!” Lumis shouted, leaping to his feet and pointing the red blade at the pit of the Jedi’s neck, the woman still locked tightly to him whimpering in terror at the danger that suddenly filled the air with the unmistakable scent of death and murderous, cruel intention.

“I have never met you,” Qui-Gon said as calmly as he was able, almost wincing when a long peel of manic, crazed, insane laughter tore from the Sith’s throat, though the blade held steady, never wavering. “Please, I don’t know who you are!”

“And why should you?!” Lumis snarled, throwing the lightsaber in his hands at the wall and causing a long, burning gash to mar the stone before it turned off and clattered to the ground. A firm, long-fingered hand wrapped tightly in Qui-Gon’s hair, and he could feel the Dark Side pressing down hard upon his walls with no sign of being able to breach the Master’s defenses. “I was only your student! I was with you on Bandomeer, on Mandalore, on Naboo, on a hundred other missions! Maybe I wasn’t the best student, maybe I wasn’t what you wanted, but I loved you, Master!” 

A sharp, pained whimper escaped from the Sith Lord’s throat as he closed his eyes tight, releasing the Jedi and winding his fingers in his own hair in an almost frantic desperation. It was more frightening, more unsettling than Qui-Gon could have possibly imagined. The emotion was honest, the pain real, but Qui-Gon had been ages without a student before he took Anakin. This Sith Lord, whoever he was, at the very least thought Qui-Gon responsible for whatever suffering he endured, for whatever agony was severe enough to cause him to slip into the madness he witnessed now. And yet, there was that familiar itch, the tug of a memory he had long since forgotten when he looked upon the man, something that seemed just off, but just enough to catch his attention, to make him feel he had seen him before.

“You took everything from me,” Lumis snarled, his breath uneven and ragged as he glared at the Jedi. “I could have left the Jedi peacefully, I could have been happy on Mandalore had I not been so dedicated to you and the Jedi Order, and for what! Only to be cast aside and replaced like I was never anything to you!” Lumis staggered where he stood, his eyes wide and wild and the corner of his mouth twitching as he stared at the Jedi, his hand extended to bring the weight of the Force down upon Shmi Skywalker when her whimpers of fear grated too loudly on his frayed nerves. “I loved her, Qui-Gon...” Lumis spat bitterly, his shaking hand clenching tightly over his wounded heart. “With every piece of my heart that you didn’t rip to bits, I loved her! And just to know you...defiled that innocent girl...” Lumis groaned, squatting to the ground as he curled in on himself, his fingers tightly winding in his disheveled hair. “Zarchas iv’tave Tsis’ari, is there nothing I hold dear, no memory I have that is not corrupted by you...”

“Satine?” Qui-Gon asked quietly, his brow drawn in confusion. “Is this about Satine?” The Jedi felt a swift, sharp spike of pain stab deep within his chest, and he nearly doubled over, hit teeth clenched to keep himself from screaming, and he instinctively tugged against the omega, still tightly sealed within her.

“Speak her name again, Qui-Gon Jinn, and I will have your vile tongue,” Lumis said softly, sincerely, without the waver of insanity touching his voice, like it had never been there to begin with in the perfect calm of the Sith before him. Qui-Gon shut his mouth. He had no intention of angering this man more than he, or someone very like him, had already done. But the illusion broke quickly, the momentary control fading in a fleeting moment, leaving Lumis broken and angry, the gold of his eyes blazing bright against the dark circles that had formed under his eyes, the man looking weary and strained for the wear that the rampaging wrath of the Dark Side inflicted upon him. 

“You had everything,” Lumis hissed viciously, pacing before the Jedi but almost appearing unable to draw near. “Everything I have ever wanted, she willingly offered to you, and you threw it away like it was nothing...” Pain and rage exploded behind the Sith Lord’s eyes, the bright gold giving way to deep red, a savage, feral growl deep in his chest that was reminiscent of some of the most violent alphas Qui-Gon had ever seen. “Just like you threw me away for him! For Anakin Skywalker! Younger, stronger, better than me in every way, the prized student you always wanted! I may not have been his equal, but I didn’t deserve to be thrown away! Tossed aside like I was nothing when all my life, I had only wished to make you proud of me, to be worthy of you!” 

His fists clenched tightly by his sides, and for just a moment, Qui-Gon saw sparks, arcing bolts of blue static leaping around the Sith Lord’s hands. “You took everything I had and still demanded more, I sacrificed so much for you and it was never enough, and when there was nothing left inside me, you threw me away for something better! You drove me to darkness, Qui-Gon! You did this to me!”

Something, something about this man, his desperation, the wounded, gaping hole within him rang true to Qui-Gon, despite the flying accusations that belonged to a man that wasn’t him. Something about his mannerisms, the shade of his hair, the fine, handsome structure of his face resonated within him, echoed deep with a memory from long, long ago. Bandomeer. Bandomeer...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi...” Qui-Gon whispered in disbelief, his eyes widening in fearful regret, the weight of understanding sinking down upon him when he realized that he very well may have been the spark that ignited the inferno of the Dark Side within this boy. “The student I refused...”

“No...” Lumis snapped swiftly. “No, not me, you never refused me...for over ten years, you trained me, but I suppose in the end, it is all the same.” He stretched out his hand toward the wary Jedi, calm settling over him at the sight of the other man’s terror, his lingering regret, his guilt, perhaps not for him and the part he had played in his fall to darkness, but it was there all the same. “It doesn’t matter, because your fate has already been decided.” A sharp, wicked smile tugged at the edge of his lips as he leaned in toward the Jedi, felt his stand firm against the scratching at his defenses. “I’m going to break you, Qui-Gon...” Lumis whispered, his tone edged with pleasured delight. “I’m going to tear your heart to pieces just as you did to me, and you will thank me for it.”

“You may kill me, Sith, but you will never break me,” Qui-Gon growled firmly, the faintest hint of his cocky, arrogant smile on his lips. “I can feel you trying to get inside me. It’s a wasted effort.” At that, the Sith’s blank expression split into one of sinister delight, a wide, bright smile on his face that contrasted starkly with his futile clawing at the Jedi’s shielding.

“Oh, Qui-Gon dear...” Lumis drawled, leaning in and patting the Jedi’s cheek. “I’m already inside you.”

Qui-Gon felt it then, deep within his mind, a clawing, wiggling scratch that suddenly felt cold, commanding, seductive in a way that the Jedi had never experienced before. He could feel the foreign wiggling like fingers, the dark tendrils like snakes slithering out to sink their fangs in the very heart of him, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t expel the presence. He looked in wide-eyed horror at the grinning Sith Lord and understood in an instant. The Master’s unbreakable walls weren’t keeping the Dark Side out. It was trapping the Sith Lord inside. With a strangled howl of terror, Qui-Gon began thrashing against the intruder, but his resistance was short-lived, his body stilling with a swift, harsh command, and though he continued to mentally struggle, his body obeyed the commands of the Sith without a moment’s complaint or hesitation.

His teeth gnashing together in pain, Qui-Gon began to pry himself out of the whining, writhing omega beneath him, the Sith Lord’s patience for waiting gone the moment he assumed control. He tried to be careful, tried to spare himself and the omega the pain of the unnatural separation, and though the massive knot had somewhat deflated, it was not without considerable pain to himself and to Shmi that he popped free of the loose, wet hole, his cum, blood, and her slick running freely out of her too pool on the ground, the fearful omega still as she was able for fear of incurring more pain than already laced through her abdomen and groin.

“Come, Jedi slave,” Lumis growled, calling the discarded saber to his hand and clipping it swiftly to his belt. “Tuck that ridiculous cock of yours back in your pants so we can get moving. I’ve a twin who has probably destroyed several priceless artifacts in his impatience waiting for you to arrive. I should hate to allow such senseless destruction to continue. Come.”

Lumis turned to walk away, but as he lay his hand on the door, he looked over to see that the Jedi had not followed, only stood with his eyes closed and his jaw tight, his body jerking unnaturally as he struggled against the Sith’s influence. With a disparaging click of his tongue, Lumis walked casually over to the Jedi Master, his eyebrow quirked and a disapproving look in his eyes.

“Now, now, Qui-Gon,” the Sith Lord chided. “You are making this more difficult than this needs to be. All Jedi are destined to serve the might of the Sith, all Jedi are slaves for us to do with as we wish, and I wish for you to come with me to my ship so that I may take you to meet your fate.” He smiled, cruel and wicked when the Jedi opened his eyes, and Qui-Gon found he could not look away from the nearly hypnotic golden eyes, the darkness deep in his mind rising and falling in a smooth, calming wave and lulling him into mindless obedience and the compulsion to obey the Sith Lord’s commands.

When he realized what was happening, how he had very nearly slipped under the Sith Lord’s sway, Qui-Gon hissed and drew back, started to snarl a defiant response, and found the words catch in his throat, unable to say them as his body objected to his resistance. He shivered, nearly gagged when Lumis laid his hand upon his cheek, and he instinctively leaned into the touch, despite every part of his screaming against it.

“Say my name, Qui-Gon,” Lumis said gently, and the Jedi bit down hard on his tongue when he felt his throat contract, his mind softly screaming to do as he was commanded. The Sith Lord smiled slyly, the pressure in Qui-Gon’s mind increasing, and instead of pain, he felt a wash of pleasure haze his senses and left him feeling unsteady, nearly post-coital in the pleasured relaxation in his muscles.

“Master...” the Jedi slurred, the word stuttered, stiff, foreign to him, and the last shreds of Qui-Gon’s awareness recoiled in revulsion.

“Again, pet...” the Sith Lord commanded, and this time, it was easier to stomach, the second pulse of pleasure drowning out the last of Qui-Gon’s voice in his mind, leaving only a mindless haze and the smooth, seductive commands of Darth Lumis.

“Master...”

“That’s it...” Lumis purred, grinning wickedly as he looked into the blank, mindless eyes of his former Master. “Come along. Aestus is waiting.”

Without another complaint, another futile attempt to resist, Qui-Gon obediently followed the Sith Lord out of the Skywalker home, through the streets of Tatooine, and into the ship that would bring them home to Mustafar.

* * *

Aestus knew the moment Lumis arrived in the system with their prize, and knew that something had gone awry with the mission. The Dark Side, previously purring with the contentment of Aestus’ release, suddenly turned sharp and cold. Lumis’ rage was a palpable thing, even from this distance, sucking in light and heat and breath like the gaping, all-consuming maw of black hole. It was like nothing he’s ever experienced before, and on his lap, Anakin shuddered, the boy’s Light presence recoiling from the Darkness’ touch.

“Something seems to have upset our dear Lumis,” he purred, stroking down the boy’s side. Anakin trembled under his hand, whining softly when the alpha nipped at the skin of his shoulders, raising colorful bruises on his skin. “I suppose we’ll just have to see when they arrive.”

They did not have to wait long.

Lumis’ presence grew stronger, more oppressive as he approached, all but smothering the Light that belonged to Qui-Gon Jinn. The man himself was not as bright as Aestus recalled from his memories, the Jedi’s Light worn and greyed by time and circumstance. The past few months have not served him well, his search for his student growing more and more desperate the longer he was lost, Jinn’s actions following suit as he chased wilder and more dangerous leads.

It’s what they had been counting on when Lumis put this plan into action. They had counted on the Jedi abandoning his post at the potential chance of finding his wayward pupil, that he would vanish into the night without word to the Council about where he was going, why he was going, and when he would return. Simply there one day and gone the next, as Obi-Wan Kenobi had been so many years before. 

A smile twitched Aestus’ lips as he considered how the Council would react to Jinn’s absence. Would they even dedicate the resources to a proper search party? There hadn’t been when Obi-Wan Kenobi never returned to Bandomeer, but then, he had simply been a failed Initiate. Not worth the manpower it would’ve taken to track him down. Then again, Qui-Gon Jinn was hardly the man he had been with Anakin Skywalker under his wing. Aestus had kept an eye on his descent from fame, watched the Council grow short of patience with the Master’s frequent absences. Perhaps they would not search for him at all, perhaps they would write his disappearance off as the alpha finally breaking. An unexpected stroke of luck, no longer having to reign in the man’s unchecked instinct.

Oh, Aestus would like that very much.

A contented smile curled his lips as Lumis sweeps into the room like a vengeful spirit, the black cloak he had borrowed from Aestus lashing around the man’s body with the fitful Dark Side as it coiled around him. Anakin physically flinched from the permeating chill, but the wash of it over Aestus was something closer to soothing in its familiarity, now that he’d come to know his twin better. That strange emptiness where his scent should have been was not quite as unsettling as it had been during their first encounter in the woods. 

Behind him, his fingers tangled in the alpha’s hair, Lumis dragged Qui-Gon Jinn in the room. The alpha was hunched down to accommodate the Sith’s smaller stature, his stride hitching with a distinct limp, but the air was clear of any distress in his scent. Whatever spell Lumis had him under, it kept him calm despite the reality of his situation.

“Well, look what the loth-cat dragged in,” Aestus purred as Lumis approached the bed, shoving the alpha roughly down onto the mattress at his feet.

“Qui-Gon,” Anakin gasped with horror when the man turned his head to lay his cheek on the sheets and catch his breath, the omega’s words the first Aestus had heard him speak in weeks without the effects of heat loosening his tongue. “No, no, no.”

Jinn’s eyes were hazy with the effects of Lumis’ control, but there was a spark of recognition behind them when he met Skywalker’s wide eyes. “Ah-Anakin?” The Jedi slurred, his tongue as clumsy as his movements when the sight of his wayward student motivated him to try and push himself upright. He barely made it to his hands knees before Lumis grabbed him one more, dragging him down to kneel on the floor at his feet.

“Where do you think you’re going, Master Jinn?” Lumis snarled, his eyes a wild, dangerous red and mouth curled in a sadistic, shark-like grin. Anakin’s distress was sharp, in his scent and in the Force as he squirmed on Aestus’ lap, tugging uncomfortably on the knot that tied them together while he struggled to go to his teacher’s aid.

“Hush, little one,” Aestus soothed, one arm firm around Anakin’s waist while the other wrapped around his chest and pulled him back to the alpha. Anakin hissed when the contact put pressure on open wounds, when it smeared blood on the skin of Aestus’ chest. The Sith paid it little mind, resting his chin on Anakin’s shoulder and watching with lidded eyes as his twin unhooked an unfamiliar lightsaber from his belt. “Just hush. It’ll be ok.”

“No,” Anakin begged, continuing to strain against Aestus’ hold. “No, please, you can’t let him—”

He wrapped a hand around the boy’s throat, squeezing tightly to cut off the rest of the sentence. Anakin choked and gasped, attempting to draw air through his compressed windpipe, but the alpha’s grip refused to loosen. “Don’t you  _ ever,”  _ Aestus snarled in his ear, “ _ ever  _ tell me what I can or cannot do. Do you understand that, boy?”

It took a moment for the omega to process his words, his mind more focused on the lack of oxygen than the alpha, but once they registered, he nodded frantically. Aestus squeezed briefly tighter for emphasis before he released Skywalker. The omega slumped back against his chest as he panted and gasped, sucking down air to replace what he was denied. 

“Good,” the alpha said, patting him on the head as one would a well-trained dog. He settled back against the headboard to watch the Jedi kneeling on the floor while Lumis paced the floor, lost in his head and muttering to himself once again.

* * *

As he paced back and forth around the Jedi Master, Lumis struggled to chain the darkness back where it belonged. It fought him, pulled against the leash to try and escape his iron will, but he pulled harder. The struggle to contain the Dark Side, to not let it absolutely consume him was never ending. Having Qui-Gon there, one that had done so much worse than simply replace him, had his self control stretched to the limit. He needed to do something, needed to keep control of himself before he did something rash like run to Mandalore.

Satine. His poor, dear Satine brutalized and abandoned. He knew exactly what to do first to his dear Master.

With Qui-Gon managed, his body compelled to obey the Sith’s command, Lumis quickly strode toward the alpha and the omega, his shaking hand unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock before he even stood before the fearful Anakin. “Open up, dear…” Lumis drawled, the softness of his tone a sharp contrast to the hard grip he had on Anakin’s chin. “You don’t want this to be unpleasant for your beloved Master, do you? Come now, the better you suck me off, the easier it will be for Master Jinn when I fuck him.”

Aestus barked with harsh, approving laughter, a wild grin spread across the the alpha’s face. Anakin visibly trembled with his distress, the omega glancing over at him best he could with Lumis’ grip, but there would be no aid to come from his alpha. He simply leaned back, resting more firmly against the headboard and raised an expectant eyebrow when the omega met his gaze. “Go on, little one,” he drawled. “You don’t want to disappoint your Master, do you?”

Skywalker swallowed dryly as he considered his options, gaze flickering between Jinn and the twin Sith. To disappoint Aestus and Lumis would mean punishment, a beating he does not want to take in front of the already compromised Jedi Master, but to follow through with their request would be a humiliation. His Master would see how far he’d fallen since his disappearance that felt like a lifetime ago that he knew was merely a few months. His Master would see how Aestus had broken him, turning him back into the slave Qui-Gon raised him to overcome.

But he knew the pain Qui-Gon’s future would bring without this. He knew the agony of a blunt, alpha cock pressed into an unstretched hole. He had the benefit of slick and heat when Aestus took him that first day, and the opportunity to feel pleasure when the worst of the pain had finally subsided. Qui-Gon Jinn was an alpha; he had none of those things. When Lumis took him, and Anakin had no doubts that he would follow through on that threat, it would be far worse. 

He would do anything to spare his beloved Master what he could of that pain.

There was a part of him that was surprised he still had any pride to choke down when he leaned forward to take Lumis’ cock in his mouth. This, at least, was a familiar action. He had pleasured the man many times over the course of their time together, kneeling at his feet as he and Aestus plotted; it was easy to focus his attention on this instead of the humiliating feeling of his Master’s vacant eyes on him as he worked. He laved at the Sith’s cock with determination and fisted what he couldn’t quite manage to take in his mouth, spreading the slickness of his saliva all the way to the base of Lumis’ dick and the short, curly hairs to be found there. But despite his conviction, he could not stop the distressed whimpers that slipped free—could not fully escape the shame of his actions. Qui-Gon Jinn had believed him meant for more than this, and now he was seeing with his own eyes that Anakin would never be anything more than just another omega knotslut.

Qui-Gon’s hand fisted tightly at his side, his jaw clenched tight and his breathing hard as he watched Anakin suck the Sith Lord’s cock, taking him in as deeply as he was able and gasping softly when he came up for air, resting only for a moment before he swallowed Lumis down again with an agonized whimper. Qui-Gon  _ couldn’t move _ , no matter how hard he struggled and strained against the invisible bonds that held him, no matter how hard he commanded his traitorous body to obey, he remained still, tense in his struggle, but unmoving all the same. Try as he might, with all the considerable strength he held inside him, he was unable to save Anakin, even now as he was so close, so pained,  _ suffering _ before him in a way far worse than any of the hundreds of nightmare scenarios he had dreamt for him over the time he had been missing. And that was worse than any other torture these Sith could inflict upon him.

“You’re lucky, Qui-Gon,” Lumis said almost sweetly as he pulled his cock free from Skywalker’s mouth with a wet pop, the flushed omega whining softly as he did. “Were your Padawan half the slut he is, he wouldn't have done such a fine job getting me ready for you.” Qui-Gon didn’t see it when Lumis moved, but suddenly, the Sith was beside him, almost as if he had foregone walking and elected to simply move through the shadows instead. A hard hand grabbed his hair, pulling his head back and forcing him to look up into blood red eyes streaked with undisputable madness, and with a deep groan, Qui-Gon closed his eyes, gasping in pain when he felt the cold grip deep in his mind like sharp claws pawing through every thought, every memory, every experience as though they were pictures on a datapad, and he hadn’t the strength to resist. A part of him didn’t  _ want _ to resist, and before he knew it, Qui-Gon found he was fighting more with himself than the true threat that gripped him.

The Jedi’s mind filled with a sudden wash of pleasure when Lumis found what he was looking for and dragged the memory he had so prized to the surface of his mind, his ears filling with soft mewls and gasps of pleasured pain and the desperate begging for more, to be filled, to feel the satisfaction of the alpha’s knot, to be pumped full of his cum and bred as the knot locked everything inside her until the task was done. On the lids of his closed eyes, he could  _ see her _ , so young, so pale, so terribly thin with the awkward gauntness of youth that would one day grow to stunning beauty, her pale skin flushed with pleasure, her eyes closed tight in bliss, but her shoulders trembled with uncertainty and fear and the pain of a penetration far too deep for such a small girl, only barely a woman.

It was like he was there again. The feel of her so tight around his cock, the smell of her heat, the sweet taste of her soft, pale skin as he licked and bit his claim, the sound of her hesitant, shamed moans and her near desperate begging for more when the amused alpha had whispered in her ear that it was alright, it was what she was made for. Despite himself, Qui-Gon couldn’t help but shudder in pleasure, growl a groan as the pooling heat deep in his stomach spread through his blood in maddening arousal, his cock quickly rising to respond to the scent of an omega he  _ knew _ he could smell. And through it all, piercing through even the euphoric haze, Qui-Gon felt  _ fire _ , an inferno of rage and hate and blazing insanity that grew hotter and hotter with each passing second, burning away the sights, the sounds, the smells of the memory until there was nothing left but consuming darkness filled with the echoing sound of crazed, uncontrollable laughter.

When Qui-Gon was thrown back into his grim reality, he felt the hard hand in his hair, the burning just under his skin, the aching hardness of his cock, that cold, dark fire raging deep within his mind as it ravished through his pliant memory, sending brief flashes before his eyes of anything that happened to catch the attention of the now scattered, disorganized Lumis. The trembling flame passed by something quickly, and returned again a moment later, and for just a moment, Qui-Gon was saying a cold farewell to a quietly sobbing blonde, the new teenage ruler of Mandalore begging for him to stay, her hands clasped tightly around the gentle swell of her stomach, already thickening her waist with the child he had planted inside her.

After that, there was  _ only _ agony.

“Kad’nuo visa tave jena'tes siela’nun, Qui-Gon, you  _ are _ a treasure,  _ aren’t you _ ?” Lumis snarled as he threw Qui-Gon’s head hard against the mattress and looked at his shaking hands in disgust, like they had been tainted just by touching him. Sharp laughter spilled from Lumis’ lips as hungry eyes watched the Jedi shake with pain, his eyes shut tight and his mouth closed to keep the Sith Lord from the satisfaction of hearing him scream, but Lumis didn’t need to hear him to know how weak he was, how dangerously close to breaking the pain had brought him. 

Lumis closed his eyes, whimpering almost pathetically as he slid his hands in his hair, tried in vain to grab hold of the flames that raged inside him, to bring himself back under control, to collect the broken pieces of himself and hastily hold them all together, but all he could see before him was Satine,  _ his Satine _ , afraid and alone and pregnant, crying silently because she knew nobody would hear her anyway. And he  _ couldn’t save her _ .

The flames roared as they rose up hotter than before, the sharp talons of the cold, wrathful Dark Side sinking deep within him and assuming control of his feverish, mad mind, and the next thing Lumis knew, he was violently tearing the robes and tunic from the shaking Jedi’s body and haplessly tossing them behind him to land in crumpled piles on the floor. Lumis’ hand ran along his strong, muscular back, his fingers outlining every line of the cut of his muscles with a touch so gentle, so  _ tender _ the a soft, whimpered moan was dragged from the Jedi’s lips, the gentle touch an almost sickening contrast to the mental agony the Sith was forcing him to endure, made worse by the fact that he  _ craved _ it, wanted so badly that small comfort, that haven from the suffering.

“She was  _ pregnant _ ,” Lumis said sweetly as he tore the boots from the Jedi’s feet and ripped his pants down past his ankles, considering it for a moment before he pulled them off entirely. “With  _ your child _ , and still you left her, even after she asked for you to stay.” Lumis chuckled manically as he grabbed hold of the Jedi’s hips and dragged them up, his hand almost lovingly petting the Master’s ass as he stroked his cock coated thick with Skywalker’s saliva. “I feel entitled to some justice on her behalf...don’t you think?” He released his hard grasp in the Jedi’s mind, and Qui-Gon’s body sagged with a deep sigh of relief, the sudden vanishing of the pain leaving him limp and boneless and with a wicked grin, Lumis took the sweet moment to violently shove the entire length of his cock into Qui-Gon’s ass.

This time, the Jedi  _ did _ scream, his entire body tightening with pain as he was violated, the fingers on his hips hooking hard around the angular bone and bringing pooling dark bruises to the surface of his pale skin that slowly spread larger beneath the Sith Lord’s palms. Above him, Lumis moaned loudly as he sank as far as he could go, dragging the Jedi’s hips back against him in an attempt to press even deeper, soft, pleasured groans spilling from his lips with each ragged breath. He was still for a moment, not for the screaming Jedi’s benefit, but for his own pleasure as he lost himself in the feel of the trembling body beneath him that struggled with a body that would not obey him and the warm, tight sensation of the man around his cock.

“ _ Kriff _ , Qui-Gon, you’re so  _ tight _ …” Lumis groaned as he leaned over the gasping alpha, his fingers raking through the Jedi’s long hair and allowing the silken brown and graying strands to slip through his gentle grasp, the gesture a cruel mockery of affection as the Sith snapped his hips hard against Qui-Gon’s. “Your body truly wasn’t made for this, was it?” Brushing the long hair aside, Lumis pressed a breathless, almost reverent kiss to the pale skin of the revolted Jedi’s neck. “Don’t you worry, dear, sweet Master of mine. We’ll soon fix that.”

Qui-Gon snarled and growled and whimpered in pain between grit teeth when the Sith Lord finally began thrusting with long,  _ slow _ strokes, the feel of every agonizing inch of his cock sliding in and out and deep within him setting his nerves on fire and filling him with humiliation as he was used like the omegas he thought himself so high above. It was made even worse by the insane Sith’s cruel, manic chuckling as he bent over him, by the long,  _ gentle _ hands that moved to stroke over the strong muscles of his chest and palmed at nipples that were inexplicably sensitive, by the cock between his legs that remained achingly hard from his earlier mental assault and stubbornly refused to subside in the face of the pain he felt. Lumis’ heavy, panting breaths fell hot and wet in Qui-Gon’s ear, and a desperate, strangled whine of distress was torn from the Jedi as his free mind fought with his enslaved body to struggle away from Darth Lumis.

“Beg for it…” Lumis purred sweetly in Qui-Gon’s ear, the chilling, dangerous edge to his voice sending chills up the Jedi’s spine as the Sith Lord stilled, held himself as deep within the Jedi as he could, and Qui-Gon couldn’t decide which was worse: the slow, tortured feel of the man fucking him, or the agony of feeling him so deep inside him. “Beg for me the way you made her beg for you…”

“What is he talking about?” Anakin whispered, his back pressed to Aestus’ chest in a subconscious attempt to put distance between himself and the tableau before him. Satisfaction curled in Aestus’ chest at the behavior, at watching his omega squirm with discomfort. “ _ Who  _ is he talking about?”

While a name had not slipped past Lumis’ lips, Aestus had enough pieces to see the bigger picture. His knowledge of Qui-Gon’s history, the beautiful young girl from Lumis’ memory, the beta’s volatile behavior. It all pointed to one thing. “The Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore. Qui-Gon was sent to protect her, so many years ago now. She couldn’t have been any older than you; a pretty, young thing on the verge of her becoming.”

In his arms, Anakin was as tense as a bowstring, his eyes fixated on the Jedi Master’s pained expression. He didn’t prompt Aestus to continue, nor did he ask him to stop. There was a part of the omega that recognized his need to hear the story, no matter how much he dreaded its outcome. His nails bit into the skin of Aestus’ arms with apprehension, but the alpha paid it no mind.

“When she blossomed into a beautiful omega, your  _ Master _ thought it his duty to show her the ways of the world—to take her and use her and make her  _ his _ . Bonded her even, though very few have ever seen it. She goes to great lengths to hide his bite, the poor dear, but in the right light, when you know what you’re looking for…”

Aestus laid a reverent kiss to his own bond mark on Anakin’s throat, running a palm over the boy’s lean-muscled stomach. It was easy to imagine him round with the growth of a new life inside. If not for the birth control Aestus gave him, he would’ve swelled with Aestus’ child long ago. Perhaps even after his first heat. It was a lovely image to consider—Anakin in his collar, chained to the floor at his feet, stomach distended with the child who would be Aestus’ legacy.

“Do you suppose he would have done the same to you, if I hadn’t found you first?” Aestus mused, his flippant tone contrasting the seriousness of the question. The implication behind it. As though he was not turning Anakin’s stomach with his words. “Is that why you ran from the Temple that day? Did something in you know even then that Qui-Gon Jinn was not the sort of alpha you’d want to spend your heat around?”

“No,” Anakin said, a sharpness in his tone surprising the alpha. His eyes remained fixated on Jinn, the alpha mewling and squirming around Lumis’ cock. “No. Qui-Gon would never do that to me.”

“Are you sure, Anakin?” He asked, tweaking the boy’s sensitive nipples and chuckling when the omega arched away from him. Omegas were always sensitive there, Anakin especially so. “Look at him, taking Lumis’ cock so well. He’s a whore, Anakin, like you. You think he’d pass up the opportunity for sex when you’d be all but begging him for it?”

As they watched the two men on the floor, watched Lumis chase his pleasure within the alpha’s unwilling body, Anakin held his ground. Aestus’ accusing whispers of Qui-Gon’s savagery were brushed aside by sharp denial, this defiance all but unseen since those first few days together. It aggravated him more than he expected, Anakin’s unwavering faith in the man who had ruined both his and Lumis’ lives. Who ruined the life of Satine Kryze, though Aestus cared little for the woman who seemed to have driven Lumis to this heightened madness. He wanted to watch Anakin break, and yet still he was denied. By the time Lumis finally came, his pleasure rushing down the open bond he shared with Aestus, the alpha was desperate for his chance at the Jedi. If he could not break Anakin’s trust in the other alpha, he could simply break Qui-Gon instead.

In the end, the effect would be the same.

The alpha’s hole dripped with Lumis’ seed when the man finally pulled out, stumbling away from Jinn and lost in the chaos of his own mind. Aestus could feel the Dark Side roil with the other Sith’s torment, could feel it nipping at his heel. Encouraging him to sink his cock deep into the other man, to use him and leave him ruined, not just for what he’d done to them. For being a Jedi, and a hypocrite. A man whose word meant nothing, betrayed for the sake of carnal pleasures, when Aestus had lived by his vow of vengeance for twenty years.

“Watch me break your Master, little one,” he growled in Anakin’s ear as he lifted the boy off his cock and sat him down on the bed, smirking to himself as the boy winced when his ass met the mattress. “Watch, and maybe I’ll spare you more of the same when I’m done with him.”

Anakin whimpered, stumbling off the bed after him and hovering as Aestus dragged the whimpering Qui-Gon back to his knees. Aestus enjoyed the conflict in his mate’s eyes, knew a part of him ached to try and stop him, but the omega had faced his wrath before and had learned to fear the consequences of any such action. As such, Aestus paid him no mind, stroking himself to fullness once more before lining up with Jinn’s dripping hole. 

Those twenty of years of waiting were worth it, when he finally forced his way into Jinn’s body. Lumis’ girth was not inconsiderable for a beta, and had stretched the alpha’s hole some, but he could still feel the way the man’s body ripped and tore around his substantially larger cock. He could hear the alpha’s shrieks and broken sobs as Jinn thrashed under him in renewed attempts to escape his torment, the noises music to his ears. Every moment, every breath, every day waiting for his ultimate revenge was worth pinning the alpha beneath him, his blood and Lumis’ cum making the rough snaps of Aestus’ hips smoother as he conquered Jinn the way he had conquered Anakin before him. As he brought the man low, the once-proud Jedi Master now worth nothing more than a used omega whore.

He could feel his knot begin to swell as the pleasure of his victory raced intoxicatingly up his spine, catching on Jinn’s torn and bleeding rim. It would be easy to force the knot in, to make him take it quickly and fill him with release, but he wanted Jinn to know every inch of him. He wanted the alpha to feel and understand the violation. He stopped his quick thrusts, forcing back the Dark in a surprising show of control, and worked the swollen flesh of his knot into the Jedi with deliberate slowness. In and out, deeper and deeper, as Qui-Gon screamed his protest. As the alpha’s body stretched beyond its limits.

As Anakin’s had done, not so long ago.

As it would again when Aestus was done with Jinn, if Lumis didn’t snatch the boy up first.

Anakin wasn’t certain what he wished for, which outcome would have been preferable, what he had been hoping for when he stared in apprehension at Aestus’ twin, his hands pressed flat against the wall as he stood hunched over, his muscles twitching erratically as if his body fought against two separate but equally compelling commands, his breathing fast and uneven as alternating cruel laughter and tortured sobs and mindlessly chanted phrases in a language he didn’t understand spilled freely from his lips. He didn’t want to look at Darth Lumis, he didn’t want to keep his eyes glued on the man that had so savagely fucked his Master, his  _ only _ chance for salvation, but keeping focused on the man he knew he would have to deal with eventually helped him keep his mind off the sights and sounds of his cruel mate gleefully thrusting deep inside the screaming Qui-Gon, slowly forcing him to take the knot he was never meant to take.

When the frantic tension within Lumis suddenly ceased, his muscles instantly relaxing and his jerking breaths falling to perfect stillness, Anakin sat up straight, his nostrils flaring in hopes of picking up a feel for the Sith through the scents in the air, only to whimper when he remembered that Lumis’ bland, muted scent gave him very little go go off of. Slowly, the Sith Lord’s head turned, and Anakin held his breath as he looked into eyes blazing red with shattered sanity, like staring into the heart of a burning, consuming sun, and the omega whimpered pitifully, deciding that this was  _ not _ the Lumis he had wanted to be faced with, not the preferable outcome he had wished for.

“ _ Skywalker _ …” Lumis hissed, a mix of rage and lust and cruel amusement edging his voice that made Anakin shiver in primal fear and blinded him to all else but the dangerous and unpredictable creature before him. Lumis had struggled to regain control, to regain at least a tenuous hold on the thin threads of his sanity, had lost the fight, and Anakin wasn’t certain how best to deal with such a creature. Defiance hadn’t fared well for Qui-Gon, so Anakin bowed his head, swallowed hard, and peered up at the sith as he trembled.

“M-master…” A mad grin spread across Lumis’ face, and Anakin couldn’t decide if it was a good thing. The Sith Lord raised his hand as he stepped backwards slowly toward where Qui-Gon lay pressed hard against the ground, feebly struggling against the delighted Aestus as he broke the other alpha open on his cock. Lumis’ panting began again between shallow breaths as he beaconed for Anakin to come closer.

“Come here, Skywalker, come to me…” Lumis drawled sweetly,  _ so sweetly _ that for just a moment, Anakin thought perhaps the man’s considerable anger had been expended in his efforts with Qui-Gon, that cumming deep inside the Master had left him pleased and lazy with bliss. Slowly, Anakin shuffled toward the man, warry and uncertain, though he knew there was little other choice than to do as he commanded. When he stood before the Sith Lord, his eyes cast to the ground not just to avoid the blazing red gaze, but the sight of Qui-Gon’s pain as he was fucked so closely behind him, Lumis reached out and gently -  _ so gently _ ! - stroked his cheek, tilted his face up to look at him, and Anakin couldn’t keep the wanting moan from slipping between his lips, which was just as well, as it seemed to have pleased the Sith.

“Your Master struggles to learn his place,” Lumis said softly to Anakin, smirking with a mix of approval and contempt as he dragged his thumb across Anakin’s red, swollen lips, the omega instinctively opening up to take the digit in his mouth and eagerly suck upon it. “Not like you, my sweet, obedient slut. You know what you’re for.” Lumis stepped to the side, pulling his hand away from Anakin’s face and gesturing to the ground right before where Aestus pounded roughly inside the Jedi, the space just out of the Master Jinn’s reach. “Show him,” the Sith Lord commanded, and Anakin’s gaze darted between the two Sith, Lumis firm and commanding, and Aestus watching him with a look of bemused interest as if wondering exactly what his cunning twin had planned.

“M-master?” Anakin asked in a whimper as he turned to look at the one who gave the order, only to find a hard hand swiftly strike him across the face.

“You heard me, you worthless whore…” Lumis said, his voice gentle and almost kind despite the viciousness of his sentiment. “Show him how an omega slut is  _ supposed _ to behave, teach him his place, show him how to please his Masters. Get on the ground, raise your ass for me, and show that  _ Jedi filth _ how well his student takes a cock.”

There was little choice but to obey. With a whimper, Anakin sunk to the ground, his eyes mistakenly drifting toward Qui-Gon to find that his Master had fallen silent, his hopeless blue eyes wide and apologetic and filled with tears he refused to let fall as he intently watched his beloved student lay upon the ground and raise his hips in the air, presenting himself to the Sith Lord just as he was told to do. Shame burned deep within him, and Anakin shut his eyes tight, unable to watch his Master’s face when he saw what he knew would happen. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of feeling shame anymore until he felt it then.

The feeling quickly faded as long flingers slid into his hair and he felt his abused, pliant mind give way to the Sith Lord as he slid deep inside his brain, the cold chill quickly replaced by a sudden flash of hot, pulsing pleasure, intense arousal washing over him like a wave that swept everything away but the feel of heat in his blood and slick gushing from his hole. Everything faded away into a haze of blistering need, and with a deep moan, he opened unfocused eyes and spread his knees wide, his back bowing to bring his ass higher into the air as his hips rolled and his body begged to be filled.

“ _ Master _ …” Anakin keened softly, moaning loudly when he felt Lumis’ long finger slide along the rim of his dripping hole, and he pressed back hard as he ached for more. “Master, please,  _ please _ …”

“Watch carefully, Qui-Gon,” Lumis purred, kneeling behind Anakin, dragging the moaning boy’s hips against his own and sliding his cock along the slick hole. “Watch your Padawan and learn what’s expected of you.”

* * *

Lumis was no longer aware of exactly how much time had passed since he’d brought Qui-Gon to his twin’s lair on Mustafar, but it had to of been at least a few days. The Jedi was still holding on to a scrap of himself, bending to Lumis’ will but not breaking. He could have honestly ended it before he’d even made it back to Mustafar, but he wanted to enjoy this fully.

Surprisingly, fucking him until he bled didn’t break the man, nor did watching his padawan get fucked and abused. Something still had the Jedi holding out and he was intent on unravelling whatever it was that kept him from entirely giving in. The challenge was nice, something he’d not been able to enjoy in his time for quite awhile. Maybe it was still his padawan giving him the strength, Lumis thought with a grin as he knew a sure way to shatter the boy in a very short time. Information he’d been witholding up until this point.

“You know, Anakin, we were on Tatooine and stopped by to visit your dear, sweet mother. She was especially happy to see your old Master. It’s too bad she was more excited for his knot than news of you.” Lumis drawled, reclined on one of the couches with his hands buried in Qui-Gon’s hair, the man’s mouth wrapped around his cock as he bobbed up and down its length. Not that the alpha was any good at it, certainly not as skilled as Shmi had been or the quick-learning Anakin, but the satisfaction that came with the action far outweighed any real pleasure. When his former Master paused in his rhythm, Lumis tightened his grip and forced him down far enough he was gagging.

It was a delicate balance to keep Qui-Gon aware of what was going on around him, able to use his senses and understand exactly what was happening, but unable to do anything about any of it. Even now the Jedi Master still tried to fight his control despite the days he’d spent under Lumis’ control and the continual failure. Not that Lumis discouraged him too much, watching the struggle and hope fade was one of his favorite parts about breaking a strong Force user. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve snapped Qui-Gon’s mind at the first encounter and left him a drooling husk intent only on pleasing Master. That wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as this was turning out to be. Honestly, he couldn’t of planned it any better.

“He’d actually come there looking for you, trying to find his poor wayward padawan. It’s too bad he got distracted by your mother’s cunt that he was never able to ask her if she’d seen you. Really, Qui-Gon nearly puts you to shame in his vigor despite being nearly twice your age, Aestus. It was quite the spectacle.” Lumis said, watching the dawning understanding in Anakin’s eyes as his gaze switched between him and Qui-Gon.

Aestus snorted in amusement, “I don’t doubt that, his knot probably doesn’t get wet often now that he’s gone all straight and narrow pious Jedi Master. Too bad really, he had such a sweet hole right under his nose.” He ran his hands over Anakin’s stomach and thighs, the omega’s legs spread obscenely wide on either side of Aestus’ thighs showing off where he was visibly impaled on Aestus’ cock. Anakin whimpered and shifted to pull away, but Aestus shushed him and nipped at their bondmark to make him go pliant again.

“Now, now, Aestus, no need to brag about your fortune. You don’t hear Qui-Gon bragging about how hard he fucked Shmi, do you?” Lumis teased with a sly smile, stroking Qui-Gon’s hair as he pulled the man off his cock to look him in the eyes, “We thought about bringing her back here to visit, but Shmi was not as young as she once was. Qui-Gon was a little too enthusiastic during their tryst and caused some internal hemorrhaging which was made far worse when he pried her off his fully inflated knot.” The Jedi’s eyes widened in horror and his head swiveled around to look at Anakin, more than likely another one of the wordless pleas. Too bad for Qui-Gon that it was true, Shmi had been bleeding out internally before they left and out of mercy Lumis had snuffed her life out instead of letting her die what was sure to be a slow and painful death.

“There was nothing we could do except ease her passing, the poor woman. It was quick and painless, never fear, Anakin.” His words were mockingly sympathetic, the temptation to hurt both his former Master and his former rival in one blow far too tempting. Qui-Gon’s guilt and horror was bleeding heavily into the force, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes.

“That’s not true! Please, please, Master! It’s not true!” Anakin shouted, struggling against Aestus’ hold, the physical pain not registering as he yanked against where he was tied to the alpha. Aestus grunted as a bony elbow caught him in the chin, his hand gripping the back of Anakin’s neck until the boy went still. A keening sob filled the room and even Lumis felt the room drop an additional few degrees in temperature with the strength of Anakin’s grief. Several of the Sith artifacts responded to the misery and pain that radiated through the force, glowing an off-worldly color.

Lumis yanked Qui-Gon up and hissed in his ear, “You see what you do to people, Qui-Gon Jinn? Nothing but a wake of misery and grief follows you. Xanatos, Freemor, Obi-Wan, now poor, sweet Anakin. It’s no wonder that you have driven all of us into the dark. Was satiating your desire worth it, Qui-Gon? Here, I’ll remind you.” Qui-Gon’s mind was wide open to Lumis’ probing, ripping through his memories to pull the one of Shmi to the forefront. He grasped it and tugged, but another memory followed with it, one much older with a far younger Shmi. Out of curiosity he pulled that one to the fore instead of the more recent one.

Watching the memory replay as he forced Qui-Gon to relive it, he tried to age it against other memories with the similar feeling of age and found it right against the one he had tortured himself with repeatedly. Rage filled him as he ripped Qui-Gon from the pleasant memory of fucking Shmi the first time. He gripped the Jedi in the force by his neck, levitating him until not even the tall man's toes dragged the ground.

“Was Satine not enough for you?! Was your dick still covered in her juices when you fucked Shmi not even days later?! You left behind your mate, a child, just to go fuck the next omega to cross your path. I wonder, did you leave Shmi with child like-” The thought in Qui-Gon's head, one he'd apparently sheltered from Lumis’ other explorations, shocked Lumis enough that he dropped his hold on the man and left his sentence unfinished.

How Lumis had never made the connection, how no one had made the connection, he wasn't sure. It was obvious now that he knew, the signs all clicking into place to give the same conclusion that he knew as truth. His shocked gaze fell to his brother and the still sobbing Anakin. Or would it be Anakin Jinn?

Aestus stared at him oddly, brows furrowed in confusion, “Are you alright, Lumis?” His knot had gone down recently as he now cradled Anakin against his chest, Anakin’s head tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around the omega’s thin waist as he tried to comfort him. Based on the tenseness his twin’s jaw held, it was a struggle for him to shield against such strong emotions coming from his mate.

“You'll never guess the news Master Jinn has for Anakin.” Lumis pulled Qui-Gon up by the hair to his knees, really, such long hair was impractical and provided far too nice of a hand hold. The Jedi struggled in his grasp, fighting the compulsion to speak pressing on him.

“I-it wasn't like that!” Qui-Gon sputtered, his voice pleading as his broken gaze never left Anakin's back and the Sith emblem carved into it. 

“Oh and what was it like, Master Jedi?” Lumis sneered.

Gone was any hint of arrogance and pride, his posture deflated into one of a man finally defeated. “I didn't know about Anakin until I met him on Tatooine, or I would've taken him to the Order much earlier. His mother doesn't remember any of it, I wiped her memory after our encounter.” It was a shame filled confession, not the declaration like he'd done about Satine.

“Of course you did, the Duchess could never tell, but some no name whore could. What would the Council do if they knew, I wonder? Not only about your indiscretions, one of them a girl put under your protection, but that you have two bastard children by some of your affairs. Then you took one of your children on as your padawan. My, my, that seems a lot like attachment, Master Jinn.” Each word was meant to cut deeply, his words sharp and biting.

“Wait.” Aestus’ confused voice rang out from where he'd shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, “His child as his padawan…” Gold eyes widened with understanding, his gaze flickering between the alpha at Lumis’ feet and the omega curled in misery against his chest. “Anakin is…” His voice trailed off a second time, looking at Lumis with an unreadable expression before it broke into a wide grin and barking laughter.

“Oh my stars, Anakin.” Aestus nudged his mate, pulling him away from his chest to force his tearful gaze to the defeated Qui-Gon. “Did you hear Qui-Gon's announcement, Anakin?

Anakin shook his head, far too wrapped up in his own grief to hear anything that had been said following the news of his mother's death at his former Master's hands. Qui-Gon was slumped at Lumis’ feet, no longer looking at Anakin but staring at the floor dejectedly. Maybe he had finally realized what Anakin had already learned, there was no point in fighting the Sith, submission was the only way. Now there was no hope of rescue, no Jedi would be wasted to save a rebellious Master and his wayward padawan. 

The alpha nudged him to get his attention a second time, his fingers easily finding a painful bruise on his ribs. Anakin wiped his tears with the back of his hand, Aestus had been patient with him so far, even gone as far being gentle and comforting. It wouldn't last, it never lasted and it seemed to be over already.

“Tell him the good news, Qui-Gon.” Lumis tightened the hold in the long hair until the Jedi was gritting his teeth, his lips curled back in a snarl as he fought the compulsion Anakin knew was thrumming through his head. Based on the glee on both his alpha and Lumis’ face, the news wasn't good. How something could be worse than fucking his mother to her death, he didn't know, but it made him anxious.

The moment Qui-Gon gave in, Anakin could see his face go slack with the pleasure of obedience. His familiar deep voice was slightly slurred as he spoke.

“I’m your father.”

The breath left Anakin’s chest entirely at his words, the world swirling in a multitude of colors and shapes as his head swam with the news. Father. His Master was his father and had never said anything in their seven years together. Not even when Qui-Gon had been injured horribly back on Garel. Not through all their times in shared meditation, immersed so deeply in the force. How had he not known? How had he been unable to feel that connection when they were so closely bonded for a Master/padawan pair?

His alpha was talking or possibly Lumis, but the words weren’t registering. Not even when the sting of a palm came across his face could he snap out of it. Qui-Gon was his father. His father who he’d watched get tortured and fucked over and over again. His father who had… killed his mother. His father had fucked his mother to her death. He had become an orphan and then gained a father only to know he would lose him again. He didn’t know what he felt other than nothing and everything.

Lumis frowned, he had expected more theatrics from Anakin at the news. Not this complete shut down he was doing. Maybe he'd misjudged the shock the boy could take and broken him too early. Aestus would be sad to lose his toy, but even he would agree that the cause had been worthy. 

Still, this was far more about his former Jedi Master kneeling at his feet, leaning into his touch. In the force he could feel the misery permeating the area around them feeding the darkness, felt the power snapping its jaws and rattling the chains of his control in demand for more. It wanted suffering, wanted blood that Lumis wasn’t ready to spill yet. He needed this to last, needed to make the alpha suffered like he had made Satine suffer. A few days was not near long enough to satisfy the urge, not while the Jedi was still capable of fighting against his control however weak the effort might be.

Nothing less than totally breaking Qui-Gon would suffice. He needed to watch him break on his own instead of forcing it to happen with the force. If he’d wanted the man broken that way he could’ve eradicated his mind back on Tatooine, but that wouldn’t have been near as satisfying.

“I think you broke my mate.” Aestus grumbled after trying to slap some sense into the boy a few more times only for there to be no reaction from him.

“He’ll be fine, just a bit of a shock learning that his daddy has been right with him for years and never said a word. Then finding out that his father fucked his mother to death? Can’t be easy.” Lumis grinned sadistically, an idea forming that would shatter both his former Master and his rival. Aestus might not like it, but Lumis didn’t really care if he did or not at this point. This was his vengeance and he wouldn’t accept less than total destruction.

Aestus didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t offer an argument which suited Lumis just fine. His plans didn’t require Aestus’ approval, if the alpha wanted to protest he could easily take care of him with little effort. The bond between them was already strong and grew stronger the longer they were together, it would be nothing to use it against him.

Qui-Gon was leaning into his hand, all but nuzzling against it with the pleasure that still lingered at his confession. It was perhaps more pleasure than he’d meant to provide, but in the end it had served its purpose. The confession had felt good despite the damage it did to his son and the realization would destroy Qui-Gon. A moment he could barely wait for, one coming very soon.

Idly he ran his hands through the long hair, chuckling to himself with pleasure and enjoyment. Anakin was still limp in Aestus’ arms, the alpha occasionally poking and prodding him in case he would respond to the stimuli. That wouldn’t do for his plans, Lumis thought, reaching inside the boy’s head to find his center of consciousness and with a quick twist, pulled him back to awareness. He didn’t give him time to adjust, delving right to where he knew the key to inducing the wanton lustfulness that delighted him lay. Anakin’s mind was so very pliant and open to him that it took nothing to drive him into mindless need.

Both of the alphas stiffened upon catching the first scent of heat, their nostrils flaring with the smell Lumis couldn’t detect. A knowing grin stretched across Aestus’ face, his eyes full of amusement as he slowly stroked Anakin’s chest and stomach, the boy mewling and leaning heavily into the touch. Under his hand, Qui-Gon growled, lips drawn back into a snarl that didn’t cease even when Lumis buffeted him across the head. He kept a firm grip on the Jedi, invading his mind to find the corresponding place to drive his rut further, pushing the thin boundary that separated the alpha as a man from a beast.

“Aestus, be a dear and let Anakin go.” Lumis asked sweetly, gesturing with just a small bit of for the omega to come closer while holding back a whining Qui-Gon with his other hand.

“Not if you’re planning on what I think you are.” Aestus said suspiciously, adjusting his grip on the now struggling omega to keep his hold.

“I fear you’ve mistaken a command for a request, dear brother.” Lumis gave no quarter, using the hold he had in Aestus’ mind to force his limbs to let go of Anakin, mercilessly punishing the refusal with a sharp pain through his skull. “It’s not up to you what happens here, Aestus, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” He bit out angrily, a mad gleam glinting in his eyes, one that made Aestus swallow any retort he’d had and simply nod with a frown.

Anakin had crawled from Aestus’ lap to Lumis’ side, keeping out of the rutting alpha’s grasp despite the copious amounts of slick and cum leaking from his well-fucked ass and the heavy haze of heat in his half-lidded eyes. Lumis grinned, caressing the soft skin of Anakin’s cheek, his mouth automatically opening for Lumis’ fingers as they neared.

“You’re just such a good whore, aren’t you?” Lumis praised, watching his fingers disappear in the warm, wet mouth the second he brought them close enough. Anakin wasted no time, demonstrating the skill he’d learned in such a short time to entice the Sith to let him suck his cock. Any other time Lumis might have given in, but he had a plan and was determined to see it into fruition.

Qui-Gon strained against Lumis’ grip even harder with Anakin so close, barely out of his long reach. The once composed Jedi Master looked more beast than man at this point, his expression feral and hungry only enhanced by the bruising Aestus had left on his face. Between the alpha’s legs, his cock was hard and ready, strings of precum dribbling from the tip to the floor. Lumis really enjoyed just how strong the humans of this world responded to need with their more primal minds.

“I think Daddy is more than willing to take care of his baby boy’s problem, don’t you, Aestus?” He asked the sulking alpha with a wry smirk.

Aestus glared, his arms crossed over his broad chest, “No knotting. He can fuck him, but if he knots him I will rip his head from his shoulders.” The tension of barely contained aggression was obvious in his shoulders and set of his jaw despite how he tried to keep a more casual pose. 

This situation bothered him more than he was letting on, Lumis noted absently, nodding in agreement to his brother’s terms. It would change his original plan, but he could still make it work in his favor. Just putting his dick in his willing son’s ass would break the man, watching the boy debase himself in search of a knot to soothe the need deep within. Anakin was the anchor to Qui-Gon’s resistance, the small part that Lumis was unable to crush beneath his heel even with his considerable force prowess.

Anakin was mewling pathetically around his fingers, all but begging for the Sith to fuck him as he rocked his hips against Lumis’ calf. He pulled his fingers free, dragging them teasingly along swollen lips before gesturing for him to turn around. “Present for me, sweetheart.”

The omega scrambled to obey, desperate for a hole to be filled at this point. Presenting, Lumis had come to learn, was one of the more delightful ways omegas showed their desire to be taken. It was certainly a nice view, Anakin's firm ass on display with his legs spread wide, his face and arms flat to the floor. His rim was puffy and pink, glistening with slick and traces of the cum both he and Aestus had deposited in the boy. Below, his small balls rested against his equally small and hard cock, smaller than Lumis’ pinky finger which amused him to no end.

He ran his fingers through the slick, smearing it all over them before bringing them to Qui-Gon’s face for him to smell and lick like the dog he was. It only served to drive the Jedi to struggle harder against him, almost no blue visible around the enlarged pupils dominating his eyes, nearly entirely feral with rut. Next to him, Anakin trembled with his own need, still just out of reach. 

When he let go of Qui-Gon, the alpha’s reaction was almost instantaneous, like releasing an attack dog after their quarry. He slammed into Anakin, knocking him over in his haste to reach him. Qui-Gon snarled, grabbing his cock with one hand and Anakin's hip with the other, thrusting home in in stroke. Beneath him, the omega cried out in relief, going pliant under the large alpha as he began fucking into his son brutally much as he had his mother.

It was nothing more than animalistic fucking, with no technique or finesse to be had anywhere. The alpha paused for a short moment, enough to get a better grip on Anakin and pull him back to his knees before thrusting back in. Honestly, Lumis thought, it spoke to the durability of the omegas that they were able to take this type of treatment over and over again. Well, not poor Shmi Skywalker, but she had been much older than her teenage son and far more worn. Briefly, he wondered if there were statistics available on how many omegas were fucked to death by alphas each year, it would certainly be an interesting study if he weren't so intent on returning to his own place and time.

In the background, Aestus nearly vibrated with the tension and effort of keeping himself from tearing the other alpha off his mate. The sheets under his fingers were twisted and torn around them a casualty to his lack of self-control. His eyes were focused on the pair rutting on the floor and Lumis knew Aestus wouldn't be able to resist much longer. 

Qui-Gon had just sunk his teeth deep in Anakin's shoulder when Lumis dismissed the haze of rut from the Jedi's mind. His thrusting didn't stop immediately, but slowed as he released the shoulder from his mouth, blood staining his teeth as he gathered his wits together and fought against the confusion after being so deep in rut. Lumis waited with eager anticipation, watching for the moment Qui-Gon realized who was wrapped around his dick. It took far longer than he thought for the alpha to notice, Qui-Gon's hands shaking with dawning horror as he gently tilted Anakin's head to the side to see his face and confirm his suspicion. The color drained from the alpha’s face as he yanked his cock out of the omega’s hole before scrambling back to put distance between himself and his son.

“No.” Qui-Gon whispered, “No. I couldn't. I didn't.”

Lumis grinned, stalking towards him like a predator who had finally cornered his prey. “Oh, but my dear Master, you did. In fact, I struggled to hold you back because you were so eager to fuck your son’s sloppy hole.” He singsonged, gesturing back to the omega still presenting so nicely for them.

Whimpering and shaking his head in denial, Qui-Gon continued to back away as Lumis advanced towards him until his back was against the wall with nowhere to go. “No, please. I couldn’t! He’s my son!”

“He’s my son.” Lumis mocked, “Some father you have been, Jinn, that the boy didn’t even know you were his father until today. After, might I add, you raped his mother and killed her. Then again, you always had a talent of abandoning your responsibilities without a word. It’s only natural that you would also abandon your son in his time of need.” Qui-Gon’s abandonment of padawan Obi-Wan still felt like it had just happened to him. The first in a series of events that drove Obi-Wan to become Darth Lumis years ago.

The Jedi sobbed, his knees pulled to his chest as he fell truly apart. There was nothing but misery and pain, the darkness snuffing out the last bit of light remaining in the old man. Only the shell of Qui-Gon Jinn remained and it only knew the darkness consuming it from within and without.

Out of all the Jedi he had broken, all the beings he’d bent to his will, none were so sweet as Qui-Gon. There was no chance for this Qui-Gon to return to haunt Obi-Wan Kenobi. No powerful padawan left behind in the Council’s care. There were only broken shells left behind.

No resistance met him as he fueled the same hunger for cock all his slaves shared in the broken Jedi. Despite having fucked the man before, this time it was different. A satisfaction arose as he shoved his cock deep in the alpha’s ass unlike one he’d ever felt before. When he finally found his release, filling Qui-Gon in both body and mind, it was positively rapturous. The Dark Side suffused him, caressing him in a way it hadn’t before. A high like he’d never felt, the waves cresting far above his physical body carrying him higher than he’d ever been before it let him down gently, tenderly.

The Dark Side was pleased with his offering.

* * *

Once Qui-Gon had broken so utterly beneath him, Lumis quickly lost interest in the Jedi. Sex was a pleasant enough distraction, but without his focus on destroying Jinn he was restless and impatient to return to his own home. Aestus tried to draw him back in, offering up the use of Anakin, but none of it interested him. Instead, he threw himself into researching and studying the artifacts in Aestus’ collection to see if one offered the secret of how to return.

Each one only seemed to lead into a dead end. At one time, a collection like this would’ve been enough to fascinate him for months on end, his hunger for knowledge like a black hole. But that was a time past, or a time yet to come, a universe far distant from the one he was currently residing in.

In the brief moments he tried to find rest, he was haunted by pale blonde hair and blue eyes so confident in his ability to save her and their unborn child before they widened with the shock of death. It was the same memory he’d been reliving since it had happened, except now he also saw a young, delicate girl only just blossoming into a woman whose eyes clouded with both pleasured bliss and agonizing pain. A Satine that was still alive right now, here, in this place, only a hyperspace jump away.

“I can save her…” Lumis whimpered almost pitifully, curled up in a corner and softly rocking as his hands fisted tightly in his hair, his eyes wild and mad as gold swirled with red in his quiet struggle for control of the fires that burned deep in his mind with madness. “ _ No _ !” he snarled viciously, his lips curling up in a bitter, angry snarl. “She’s  _ dead _ . She’s dead, your son is dead, they are gone and they are  _ never coming back _ .” His rage quickly shattered, leaving the pieces of him broken and exposed, and with a desperate, yearning whine, Lumis curled in on himself as if to protect the bloody, open wounds on his exposed heart. “But  _ this one _ ...I can save  _ this one _ , I can see her again, she- _ no _ !” he hissed, his eyes snapping shut as he worked to calm his ragged breathing and his pounding heart. “She’s  _ gone _ , Lumis. You failed her, she’s dead because of  _ you _ …”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, his heart slowing as he soothed the thrashing Dark Side, and before long, he felt the beast tamed, still struggling against him, but the chains had already bound the beast. When Lumis opened his eyes, they were gold, stormy and dangerous and edged in red, but he remained master of himself once again. “I cannot stay here…” he muttered softly. “There are ghosts in this place…”

Again, he threw himself into the research and Aestus’ collection, refusing to sleep or eat, letting the Dark Side fuel his body and sharpen his mind. The alpha occasionally offered his assistance, but Lumis did not want it, sending him back to his room with his broken toys to play with. The cycle continued for a few days, a week, he was no longer sure of the time passing, until he reached the last of the Sith artifacts Aestus owned.

On the outside, it looked simple, a dull metal sphere only a handbreadth in diameter, but in the force it shone brighter than any other artifact he’d held. Aestus hadn’t known what it was or its purpose when he’d asked, only that he’d found it in some politician’s home that he’d killed for his Master. It was certainly one of the least flashy pieces he’d had and as such had been relegated to gather dust in a random desk drawer. There was no writing on the sphere, no hollowness to it, no secret openings hidden on its surface. Absolutely nothing to explain its purpose to him at all. For all he knew it could’ve simply been a paperweight for an ancient Sith lord that merely absorbed some of the power of their rituals.

Lumis wanted to throw the thing, to destroy everything around him, kill everything on this wretched world, but it would serve no purpose. Sith lord he might be, but there was no purpose to having all his power if he was unable to control himself with it. The Dark Side bucked and fought within him, the storm swirling in its might, and he struggled to settle it back into its chains. On instinct alone, he settled into a meditative pose and focused on breathing in and out, venting the force energy humming through his body into the sphere still held in his hands. After long moments of slowed, steady breathing, the storm within dissipated.

For a moment, all was quiet in the force as if he was isolated from everything around him. The peace made him yearn for his home, for a small soft body fitted against his own, the swell of a child beneath his hand. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes with the depth of his longing, the only good part of him wrapped up in his love for her. He could feel her in his arms, the softness of the plain nightgowns she preferred, her silky fine hair tickling his nose and tangling in his beard, the fruity smell of her favorite perfume that hadn’t changed since the day he’d met her.

“Obi, too hot. Move.” Her voice was sleepy and cranky as she pulled away from him, exactly how he’d remembered it their last morning together.

He opened his eyes, expecting to see the same dark, cluttered room he’d locked himself in for days, but instead he was nearly blinded by the brightness of the natural light streaming through windows. Quickly, he sat up in the soft bed and looked around the bedroom he knew well enough to navigate in complete darkness, everything set the way he remembered it down to the messy vanity in the corner. His heart clenched in pain, at the cruelty being inflicted upon him.

Dread set in as he looked next to him, expecting to be ripped from this pleasant dream into his nightmares per usual. Nothing happened when his eyes finally rested on her, no lightsaber plunging through her body, no dead eyes looking back at him, only the back of a tangled blonde head and a the back of a sweaty nightgown. This couldn’t be real, he thought as he tightly closed his eyes and pulled against his hair. She was dead, his son was dead, they were gone and dead because of him. When he opened them it would once again be his nightmare.

Except that didn’t happen, his eyes opened to see the exact same view of his beloved wife. Tentatively, he reached out a shaking hand to stroke her pale arm. Her skin was warm, he could feel the rise and fall of her breath through his touch. When she turned her head and sleepy blue eyes met his, he broke into tears and pulled her very alive body against his. It was too good to be true, but somehow it was.

He was truly home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last we have reached the end! You have our thanks for sticking around this long, and if you're still interested in more Misadventures of Lumis & Aestus, keep your eyes peeled! There may just be more on the way!


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